Damned If You Do, Damned If You Don't
by Riflow
Summary: Each step she took, he took two steps back. Not out of choice; but out of fear. Fic for Razer Athane.
1. Prologue

_/If written like this,/_ it's Devil.

**_/If written like this,/_** it's Angel.

_If written like this,_ it's thought.

* * *

**_Prologue: Darkness_**

His heartbeat increased rapidly with every step he took into the open arena, chocolate brown eyes staring right back into his opponents. Beckoning him, challenging him... Torturing him. Those opposing eyes belonged to his father, Kazuya Mishima; and they conveyed something more than hate - they contained possession. Jin had never seen his father look so angry, and god, did Kazuya get angry at best. He'd been at the opposite end of that stick many times. Jin had not long stopped, sliding his trench coat off of his broad shoulders to reveal a bare chest, not six feet away from Kazuya, when the Devil spoke.

_/ If you proceed with this pathetic attempt at redemption, you will be destroyed without a second thought. /_

Kazama suppressed a smirk, clenching and releasing his fists, foreseeing the loss of skin from scathed knuckles, sweat beading in large droplets on his forehead as a raging battle ensues between belligerent father and son, and most importantly of all - the deprivation of his soul.

But Jin didn't care if it was his skin torn, his bones broken or his soul damned. As long as it wasn't...

_/ Hers. /_

_Yes... Hers._

Upon hearing the Devil within mention that one word, his eyes scanned the bleachers surrounding the fighting arena for that particular person. First, he saw Xiaoyu, grinning madly and waving to him - Jin smiled. Next, to Hwoarang, who didn't look too happy to be there, in all honesty. His mouth was turned down in a characteristic frown, but Jin hadn't expected anything else. That was what Hwoarang was like when his best friend wasn't there.

All of a sudden, an uncontrollable rage spread within the young Kazama. He wanted nothing more than to rip every last shred of mortal coil from Kazuya's body. But, no, he'd save that for later on in the fight if he had no other alternative plans of attack.

Kazuya smirked as both Japanese men slid into their stances, "I warned you to stay away from the Greek. But you did not listen...continuing to infect her tormented and abused flesh...with vile Kazama skin. Oh, how like a parasite, you are, my son."

"I am no son of yours, Kazuya," Jin hissed, eyes narrowed into deadly slits, "You will eat those words."

It seemed that those words seemed to please him, since instead of backing off like any sane person would do, he took a step forward - and laughed, "Do you know what I could do to her?"

Jin's eyes flickered to where Hwoarang was seated, leaning forward on his seat, itching his palms. A little characteristic he'd picked up off of Razer, like she had picked up his habit of scratching the back of his head. He was clearly as pissed as Kazama, but Jin was lucky enough to have the opportunity of throttling Kazuya, unlike the Blood Talon, who had to just sit there and watch those hurtful words about Razer be spoken. It killed him inside...knowing that he was powerless to stop it.

That was what hurt him most.

He promised to protect her, and he had failed, for she was currently led in a hospital bed with severe injuries and bruises...all caused by the hands of the beast that was Kazuya Mishima.

Seong-Hada remained silent throughout the whole procedure. He knew how important the upcoming fight was to Hwoarang and to Jin; especially to Jin. His eyes flicked nervously from his former gang leader to his acquaintance in the arena with Mishima. Seong-Hada didn't even spark up a conversation with Xiaoyu because he was so nervous. _Razer is in bad enough shape as it is. I don't wanna dig a deeper hole for myself by getting on Hwoarang's nerves_, he thought.

"I do not want to know and I do not need to know. You will never get your hands on Razer without having to go through me!"

_/ Do you smell that, Kazuya? /_

The younger Mishima did, in fact. He could smell the fear on Jin, even if the latter tried his best to cover it up with monotonous emotion - albeit badly.

It was blood. Athane's blood was pulsing strong in Jin's veins and that only infuriated Kazuya more, left eye glowing red like a beacon, drawing all things wicked and evil like a clarion call.

_/ No, Kazuya, look with greater eyes. If our son has tasted the Greek's blood...then Razer...will come like a dog to it's masters call. The cards are once again turned in our favour. Our son's advantage has shifted and the game has become more interesting. /_

Jin had been the first to slip into stance and was already faltering, too unsteady to return it to proper form.

_/ Listen to me, you pathetic, little fagin. You _can _win this battle if you just let me fight! /_

_Never, _Jin hissed inwardly.

_/ You will need me sometime, Mortal. Pass this offer up and you won't have a back-up plan. Razer would have inflicted those wounds for nothing and you will forever be wrapped in the arms of guilt. /_

_I don't need you to fight my battles. I can control my actions alone, _Kazama warned, fatal lightning beginning to swirl his forearms.

_/ Oh, really? / _Unconscious thoughts began to fill Jin's mind, images of him and Razer, in Devil form, fighting high up in the sky over the Cathedral, both too tired to carry on but both too bent on winning to care.

_Stop it, _Jin whispered as tears began to fill his eyes, that horrible lump emerging in his throat. The Devil within grinned at the sight of Kazama's emotional visage and pulled the image from his mind. _/ Do we have a deal? /_

Before Jin had time to even think about the question, Kazuya had thrown himself at the unsuspecting Japanese man, grasping his son by the throat and squeezing hard, pushing the air out of him, "You will not abate me, _filth_. If so, you will suffer the consequences _severely_, do you understand?" Jin said nothing, pressing his thumb into Kazuya's wrist to find a pressure point - but failed. Kazuya grinned and threw the young Kazama roughly to the ground and walked backwards a little, eyes boring into Jin's own.

"I don't think you quite understand the situation, Kazuya. If Razer dies... I die."

"Is putting your own life at risk really worth that Greek filth?"

Those hurtful words greeted Jin and Hwoarang like a slap to the face. They stung, and lingered there long after the offence had taken place. The Blood Talon's eyes narrowed, knuckles whitening as his fists curled ever more tighter that nails threatened to tear through the skin. He sharply bit his lip to refrain himself from saying anything. He did not want another run in from Kazuya. Last time he did, he was on crutches for a fortnight.

"Of course it is. Razer is my friend and my world and I am not going to let your hands near her ever again. Even if my own life is put on the line."

_/ Jin... Whatever you're doing, don't. /_

_Since when did you care about my well-being? I thought I was merely your puppet; nothing more than a plaything._

_/ Yes. But if you die, then I die as well. /_

_What is wrong with that? I quite like that idea, if you ask me,_Jin smirked.

_/ Fuck you, asshole. /_

Jin smiled - very barely - but a smile, none the less. It very shortly disappeared, though, when Kazuya gave such a cold smile, that the young Kazama thought that the temperature around him had suddenly dropped. He felt himself getting sicker in that silence. It was excruciating…but he refused to show it.

"We will meet again, Jin. Sooner than you think," Kazuya stated, turning and tugging at his purple tuxedo jacket, strolling out of the arena as if it were a mere walk in the park.

"Wait! But we have a... Match." Jin trailed off at the end as the referee announced the winner.

"The winner by default is Jin Kazama!"

Cheers from the supporters and boos from the opposers were heard all around him, but all Jin heard was the blood pumping in his ears, the quickening beats of his heart; his rapid breathing.

_/ He is planning something. This will not turn out good for Athane if you do not act now. /_

A string of Japanese profanities littered the air as Kazuya left. He understood every word that uncharacteristically escaped his son's lips. He was Japanese, after all. He payed no mind to it as he walked away... The plans forming in his thoughts to lay the trap and get to the prize, and that prize...

...Was Razer.

* * *

_It was not the peaceful, dreamless sleep she had yearned for - of course not. She was in that forest again, and she started to wander the way she always did._

_She quickly became aware that this was _not _the same dream as usual. For one thing, she felt no compulsion to wander or to search; she was merely wandering out of habit, because that was what was usually expected of her there. Actually, this wasn't even the same forest. The smell was different, and the light, too. It smelled not like the earth of the woods, but like the brine of the ocean. Razer couldn't see the sky; still, she knew it was sunny - the leaves overhead were bright jade green, ironically, the same colour as her eyes._

_This was the forest around Yakushima - near the coast there, she was sure of it. She knew that if she found the coast, she's see the sun, so she hurried forward, following the faint sound of waves in the distance._

_And then Hwoarang was there. He grabbed Razer's hand, pulling her back towards where she came from - the blackest part of the woods._

_"Hwoarang? What's wrong?" she asked. His face was the frightened face of a boy. He yanked with all his strength, but she resisted; she didn't want to go back into the dark._

_"Run, Raze, you have to run!" he whispered, terrified._

_The abrupt wave of déjà vu was so strong it nearly woke her up._

_She knew why she recognised this place now. It was because she'd been here before, in another dream. A million years ago, part of a different life entirely. This was the dream Razer had when her and Jin had first broken up, the first night for years that she'd felt torn apart again. Relieving that day with Hwoarang after must have dredged the dream from deep within her buried memories. Detached from the dream now, she waited for it to play out. But she was getting ahead of herself. Something else had to happen first._

_Hwoarang dropped her hand and yelped. Shaking and twitching, he fell to the ground at her feet, "Hwoarang!" she screamed, but he was gone._

_In his place was an enormous, purple being with intelligent, crimson eyes. This being was gigantic, monstrous, bigger than her when in Devil form._

_... Devil form._

_The Devil-but-still-Hwoarang stared intently at her, trying to convey something vital with his blood-red eyes. The sienna, familiar eyes of Hwoarang, her best friend._Razer woke up screaming at the top of her lungs.

* * *

Razer knew she would feel better tomorrow when she was with Hwoarang again. That made the empty hole and familiar pain easier to bear; relief was in sight. Her frequent nightmares, too, had lost a little of their potency. She was horrified by the nothingness, as always, but she was also strangely impatient as she waited for the moment that would send her screaming in unconsciousness. She knew that the nightmare had to end.

She almost expected a nurse to come in and check on her that time. This wasn't her usual screaming. Razer buried her head into the pillow and tried to muffle the hysterics that her screams were building into. She pressed the cotton tight against her face, wondering in she couln't somehow smother the realisation she had just made. Kazuya was coming after her, and he would not stop until she was taken by his hand. She realised from the nightmare exactly how dangerous he was - she had underestimated his power - he would destroy anything and anyone who got in his way.

Jin, Hwoarang, Seong - Hada, they could all die because of her. Well, in Hwoarang's case, die again, but all the same, their fate would be on her hands if she did not act upon this new obstacle that was Kazuya Mishima.

But the nurse didn't come in, and eventually she was able to strangle the strange screeching coming out of her throat.


	2. Chapter 1

_**Chapter Two: Glance**_

Something was stuck in Razer's throat. She tried to swallow it down, but it was lodged there, unmoving. She tried to spit it out, "Kazuya," she gasped.

Yes, that was the word that she was choking on. She glanced around the room that she did not recall was the hospital. Of course not, it was Hwoarang's room in the new dojang. How did she get here? Staring at the glass of water on the bedside table, she narrowed her jade green eyes and picked up the small square piece of paper sat next to the glass.

_SW,_

_Wondering how you're here? Well, we couldn't get into the mansion for some reason, so me and SH brought you back to the dojang. We didn't think you'd mind. Baek's worried about you as usual XD_

_You've gotta be more careful, Raze. They discharged you from the hospital but you were out like a light when I came to see ya after Kazama's match. I'm surprised that he was able to stay himself after what Kazuya did to him, tbh. _

_But I'll tell you more about that when ya come out._

_BT x_

What Kazuya did...? Hwoarang saw Kazuya attacking Jin?

The whole world lurched, tilting the wrong way on its axis. What kind of place _was_ this? Could a world really exist where suspicious legends were wandering and flying around the borders of large, vibrant cities and tiny, insignificant towns, facing down other mythical creatures? Stupid question, really, she'd witnessed and experienced both these physically, mentally and emotionally. Was there a place on this planet where a father viciously beat his child for reasons unknowing people couldn't fathom or comprehend? Again, yes.

Razer clutched her head in her hands, trying to keep it from exploding. How could she have been so blind? Kazuya wasn't known for being a saint in the first place, especially if he wanted something. Just look at what he did to Hwoarang, leaving the boy on crutches for a painfully long period of time.

A small, soft voice in the back of her mind asked her what the big deal was. _**/You are strong enough to hold him back, Razer, even if you are currently in a vulnerable and weak state./**_

_Thanks for trying to alleviate my spirits. It really helped, _Razer sighed sarcastically.

_**/Kazuya will not attack you again whilst Jin is around. Trust me. I'm sure my other half is thinking the exact same thing...except his is probably not in such glowing terms. Jin may be putting you through hell, Razer, but remember this: He cannot help it./**_

Her forest green eyes glanced down at her bruised lower arms. The skin was less blue now but smaller purple patches were still visible, even though they were inflicted a while ago. They must have been very strong. _I know that, Angel. But I can't help feeling responsible for this. _

_**/None of this is your fault./**_

Razer ignored that contradictory statement_. I just want my_ _Jin back._

Angel smiled half-heartedly, **_/As do we all./_**

Hadn't she already accepted the existence of mythical beasts a long time ago - and with all the hysterics at that time? Twelve years old was such a young age to be carrying such a life-ruining burden. Exactly, she wanted to scream back at the voice. Wasn't one 'myth' enough for anyone, enough for a lifetime? Besides, there'd never been one moment where Razer wasn't completely aware that Kazuya Mishima was above and beyond the ordinary. Jinpachi was a big,_ big _example of that. It wasn't such a surprise to find out what he was - because he so obviously was _something_.

Then again, going back a couple of years, what about when she noticed that Jin was different? Jin, who was just Jin, and nothing more than that? Jin, her friend? Jin, the only human she'd ever been able to really relate to...

And he wasn't even human. She'd fought the urge to scream when she found out all those years ago, having to live with the fact that he was cursed with the gene as well. She only really began to realise that he was different like his father when her, Hwoarang, Julia and other friends raided G-Corp in search for Genocell. The only cure for the Greeks never-ending nightmare...and it wasn't even ready.

What did this say about her? She knew the answer to that one. It said that there was something deeply wrong with her. Why else would her life be filled with characters from horror movies? Why else would she care so much about them that it would tear big chunks right out of her chest when they went off along their mythical ways? Apart from previously _being_ one, of her head, everything spun and shifted, rearranging so that things that had meant one thing before, now meant something else.

Suddenly, she was in a frantic hurry. She glanced at the digital clock on the table - it was way too early and she didn't care. She had to go to the mansion _now_. She had to see Jin so he could tell..._show_ her...that she hadn't lost her mind altogether.

She pulled on her jacket which was folded neatly on the back of the desk chair - Hwoarang fussed over her too much - and took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the stinging sensation in her leg and arms. She almost ran into Baek as she skidded into the entrance room, heading for the door.

"Razer? Where are you going?" he asked, as surprised to see her as Razer was to see him, "Do you know what time it is?" Behind the elder Korean, Hwoarang appeared from around the corner.

"Yes. I have to get back to Jin," Razer replied, eyes still glued to the front door.

"I thought the thing with him-"

"What thing? What're you talking about?" Rushed words. Always result in trying to cover something up. Hwoarang raised an eyebrow. "Anyway, that does not matter. I have to get back to him right now."

"It's pretty early." Baek frowned when her expression didn't alter, "Don't you want breakfast?"

"Not hungry." The words flew from her lips. He was blocking her path to the exit. She considered ducking around him and making a run for it, but she knew that would be rude and she'd have to evidently explain it to him later, "I'll visit very soon, okay?"

Baek frowned. "To the mansion? I know you're old enough to look after yourself but you're in no fit state to walk all that way."

"Don't worry, Baek. I'll be fine." Razer feigned a smile.

"What about Hwoarang? He can take you, can't he?"

"I don't want to bother him."

"Bullshit." The Greek turned to her best friend, the latter picking his keys up off the wooden table next to the door, a smirk plastered on his features, "I'll take you."

The twenty-one year old itched her palms, "No! No, don't go. It's too dangerous."

He raised an eyebrow, "Nothings too dangerous for me."

She couldn't answer. If the two males hadn't been watching her, she would have put her head between her knees. She'd momentarily forgotten about Jin. He was going to be _so_ angry that she hadn't returned to the mansion straight from the hospital.

_**/Breathe, Razer./**_

As commanded, the Greek let out a shaky breath. Hwoarang, aware of her state, put a hand on her shoulder and shook her lightly. She looked up to him, a small, pretend smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

"I've got to do my job as your best friend, Raze. Don't be such a pessimist - I'll be fine. I'm only driving you to your _home_, anyways."

Razer hesitated, her stomach still spinning in uncomfortable lurches. What could she say to stop him? She was too dizzy to think of a solution.

"Storm Wind?" Baek asked.

"Maybe it's too early to go back, now," she whispered.

"I agree," the eldest Korean said, motioning the red-head to follow him. The latter reluctantly left his best friend's side, still staring at her as the twosome left. As soon as they were out of sight, she dropped to the floor and put her head between her knees.

Jin was her best friend, her boyfriend, but he was a monster, too. A real one. A bad one. _Should _she warn him that Kazuya was coming after him? After Hwoarang? After everyone she loved? It was inevitable that she could compare Jin to Kazuya, in the Devil gene sense. Razer wrapped her arms around her chest, fighting the hole, while she thought of them. She didn't want to feel this again, not after the events of her childhood in Greece, not the feeling she felt when waiting for Hwoarang atop that church spire in the wind and rain, years ago.

She didn't know anything about Kazuya, really. Only that he was sadistic, cruel, evil, and manipulative. So she didn't know why the Devil's desire was to see her crumble. It was hard to judge, not knowing that.

But it couldn't be worse than what Jin endured in his quest to be good. Razer thought of her mother - the tears started when she pictured her kind, lovely face, hiding the terror that her and Razer once endured - and how, as motherly and loving she was, she had fought against her husband...before being brutally murdered by his hand.

The tears began to fall. Was this a life? Surely, yes. She felt things had somehow become impossibly complicated.

That was the only way she could describe it.

* * *

Razer wasn't sure what the hell she was doing here, so early after the last inflictions.

Was she _trying _to push herself back into the zombie stupor? Had she turned masochistic - developed a taste for torture? She should have gone straight back to the dojang. She felt much, _much _healthier around Hwoarang. _This_ was _not_ a healthy thing to do. But she continued to wander slowly and cautiously down the overgrown lane, weaving through the trees that arched over her like a green, living canopy. Her hands were shaking, so she tightened her grip and balled her hands into fists.

She'd considered her options later that morning. She could either let Hwoarang drive her there and risk him getting hurt, or she could go back alone. It was not like she wasn't used to the consequences already. She knew that part of the reason she did this was because of the nightmare; now that she was really awake, the nothingness of the dream gnawed on her nerves. There _was_ something to look for. Unattainable and impossible, uncaring and distracted...but _he _was out there - Kazuya - somewhere. Razer had to believe that. She was lying to herself by splitting her reason for going there into just two parts. She didn't want to admit the strongest motivation. Because it was mentally unsound.

The truth was that she wanted to hear Jin's voice again, like she had when she had first befriended him. For that time, when his voice came from a place of perfection rather than the pale echo she usually heard, she was able to remember without pain. It had not lasted; the pain had caught up with her, as she was sure it would for this fool's errand. But those precious moments where she could hear the true Jin were an irresistible lure.

_**/This is stupid and idiotic, Razer,/ **_Angel fumed.

_Look, I know that Jin...isn't really himself at the moment, but I still need to tell him about Kazuya, _she told Angel, her forest green eyes scanning the ground with every cautious step she took, careful not to trip or fall over any obscure tree roots. _Besides, it's not like I'm oblivious to what could happen if he already knows, am I?_

Angel sighed, _**/No, I suppose not, sadly. But why did you walk here? Why turn down Hwoarang's generous, **_**safe**_**, offer?/ **_

Razer grinned at the emphasis Angel put on the word 'safe', _Remember the nightmare I had while I was in hospital? Well...I don't want Hwoarang or anybody else getting hurt by Kazuya because of me._

**_/You mean...getting hurt by Kazuya _again_ because of you,/ _**the soft voice amused.

The Greek pursed her lips, a slight smirk forming, tapping her head jokingly, _Very funny. _It wasn't really. Thinking of Hwoarang getting beaten up so badly...seeing him pass out in her arms...made a painful lump form in her throat. This was one of the reasons she'd walked on her own to the mansion, to keep Hwoarang safe and to also avoid him from seeing what Jin did to her.

**_/But all joking aside, Razer, I think you should come back to the mansion later. Are you sure you know what you're doing?/_**

The Greek youth shook her head and found herself breaking a smile. Angel did have this way about her that just oozed comfort and calm. Angel was a gift...something to be observed, envied...since Razer herself had been a follower. Slowly, the young Athane drew alongside a tree thick with ivy.

"I don't think I know anything anymore, Angel," she said, letting her head tip back.

* * *

When Hwoarang opened his eyes in the morning, something was different. It was the light. It was still grey-green light of a cloudy day in the city, but it was clearer somehow. He realised there was no fog veiling his window. He jumped up to look outside, and then smiled in happiness.

A fine layer of snow covered the yard, dusted the top of the car, and whitened the road. But that wasn't the best part. All the rain from yesterday had frozen solid - coating the leaves on the trees in fantastic, gorgeous patterns, and making the roads a deadly ice slick. Hwoarang loved sliding on it when out and about in the snow.

Baek and Seong-Hada were training when Hwoarang got downstairs. In a lot of ways, living with Baek in the large dojang was like having his own place and he found himself revelling in the aloneness instead of being lonely. He threw down a quick of bowl of cornflakes and some orange juice from the carton, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He actually felt excited about going to work, and that scared him a little. He knew it wasn't the stimulating enjoyable environment he'd have liked. If he was being honest with himself, he knew he was eager to get to work because he knew that he would see that woman who works there...And that was very, very stupid, considering his feelings for the Greek woman. But what made him smile was that Miyako actually _liked _him.

He should be avoiding her entirely after his brainless and embarrassing babbling a few days before when sat at the checkout next to hers. And he was suspicious of her; why would she change the subject whenever he talked about family? Hwoarang was sometimes strangely intimidated by the hostility he felt emanating from the pretty Japanese girl, Miyako - even if she did look as innocent as a lamb. But he shouldn't be at all anxious to see her today. He liked her but he _loved _Razer, and that's all the difference in the world.

It took every ounce of his concentration to make it down the driveway without falling on his ass. He almost lost his balance when he finally got to the bus stop, but he managed to cling on to the lamppost...but he loved the rush all the same. Clearly, today was going to be nightmarish for many people. On his bike travelling to work, he distracted himself from the fear of skidding and his thoughts about Miyako by thinking about Lili and Asuka, and the obvious difference in how teenage girls responded to him there.

Hwoarang was sure he looked exactly the same as he had in Korea. Maybe it was just that the girls back home had watched him pass quickly through all the phases of adolescence and still thought of him that way: rude and cocky. Perhaps it was because he was a novelty there, where novelties were few and far between. Possibly his crippling clumsiness was seen as endearing rather than pathetic, casting him as a damsel in distress.

Whatever the reason, Lili's puppy dog behaviour and Asuka's apparent rivalry with her were disconcerting. Hwoarang wasn't sure if he didn't prefer being ignored.

His bike seemed to have no problem with the black ice that covered the roads. He drove agonisingly slow, though, not wanting to carve a path of destruction through the main street. When Hwoarang stepped off his bike and put his keys in his pocket, he saw why other cars had so little trouble. Something red caught his eye, and he walked to the back of one car - carefully holding the side for support - to examine the tyres. There were thin chains criss-crossed in diamond shapes around them.

Hwoarang glanced up from his place by the Nissan and smirked at his newly made acquaintance, Sayu, approaching him, trying his best not to slip, "It's snowing," Hwoarang pointed out. The twenty two year old Korean looked at all the cotton fluffs that were building up along the pavement and swirling erratically around his face. His fiery red hair stood out like a flame in the resounding white.

"Ugh," Sayu grimaced. There went his good day, "Had enough this morning, if you ask me."

Hwoarang looked surprised, "Don't you like snow?"

"No. That means it's too cold for rain. Besides, I thought it was supposed to come down in flakes - you know, each one unique and all that. These just look like white blobs of shit. Have you ever seen snow fall before?" he asked.

"Of course I have," he stated, "I lived in Korea for the majority of my life. I think I'd know what snow looks and feels like." Sayu laughed. And then a big, squishy ball of dripping snow smacked into the back of the brunette's head. They both turned to see where it came from. Hwoarang had his suspicions about Miyako, who was walking away, her back towards them - walking the wrong way to work.

Sayu bent over and began scraping together a pile of the white mush, "Little bitch," he smirked.

"I'll see you at lunch break, okay?" Hwoarang kept walking as he spoke. Sayu just nodded, his brown eyes on Miyiko's retreating figure.

Throughout the morning, customers nattered excitedly about the snow; apparently it was the first snowfall of the new year. Hwoarang kept his mouth shut. Sure, it was drier than rain - until it melted in your socks.

Hwoarang walked to the cafe across the road with Sayu during their lunch break. Snowballs were flying everywhere and the Korean had to duck a few times to avoid getting biffed in the face by a white mush ball. Hwoarang thought it was hilarious, but something in Sayu's expression kept him from lobbing a snowball at the Japanese man himself. Miyako had caught up to them as they walked in the doors, laughing, with ice melting in her long, brown hair. Her and Sayu were talking animatedly about the snow fight as they got in line to buy food. Hwoarang glanced at them, the around the cafe for an empty table. And then he froze where he stood.

Sayu pulled on his arm, "Hello? Hwoarang? What do you want?"

Hwoarang looked down, eyes narrowed. Luckily, his mass of red hair refrained anyone from seeing his temporary weakness.

"What's with Hwoarang?" Miyako asked Sayu.

"Nothing," Hwoarang answered, "I'll just get a coke today." He caught up to the end of the line.

"Aren't you hungry?" Sayu asked.

"Actually, I feel a little sick," Hwoarang said, his eyes still on the floor. He waited for them to get their food, and then followed them to a table, his eyes on his feet. He gulped his drink down as if he hadn't drunk for days, his stomach churning. The red-head's sienna eyes casted over to that table again.

Kazuya Mishima was sat there, a dark smirk on his face.

_/He's scared, Kazuya. Can't you see it in his eyes? Without the Greek obstacle...he is all alone. This will be much easier than we anticipated./_


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: Be prepared for a _lot_ of Razer/Hwoarang 8D

* * *

_/If written like this/..._it's Devil.

**_/If written like this/_**_..._it's Angel.

_If written like this..._it's thought.

* * *

It wasn't like Razer to be uncomfortable around Hwoarang. In fact, it wasn't like her to be this nervous around him. It was a boring Saturday and he was told by his work to stay home ("Thank all the gods in the universe!") so, since Razer was still there, probably not for long, he decided to take her out to take her mind off stuff.

The twosome were sat in the living room watching some drama, well, Hwoarang wasn't watching it. He was staring straight through it, thinking of something to do. "Hey, why don't we call a few of the guys and go watch a film?" he asked out of the blue.

Razer blinked and turned her eyes up to his face, noticing how tired he looked from the strain that work was giving him, "If you want. What kind of film do you have in mind?"

"We could watch Scarface?"

"The really violent one? I thought it was made in 1983."

"It was such a success that they've brought it back for a limited time."

"I'm up for it if everyone else is. Who were you thinking of calling?"

"Erm...Well, I was gonna call Miharu and Xiaoyu..."

"Midget? Hwoa, she won't watch a toy getting the stuffing pulled out of it, let alone watch _Scarface_."

"Miharu might like it."

Razer's mouth pulled up in a smirk, "Ah, I see. Miharu and you in the screening, her cowering into your shoulder as a guy is mauled..."

Hwoarang scowled, "Hey, shut the fuck up."

"Sorry, sorry," Razer smiled.

Seong-Hada wandered into the room as they finished their quick conversation, noticing their expressions, he raised an eyebrow. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked nervously.

"Hey, SH. Wanna watch a movie with us?"

"What kind of movie?"

"Scarface?"

Seong-Hada's mouth turned down in an uncharacteristic frown, "Isn't that one really morbid and bloody?"

Razer waved her hand, "My point exactly."

"Again, shut the fuck up."

Seong-Hada smiled, "Were you going to ask Xiaoyu to come?" he asked, hopeful, bright eyes conveying more than he wanted to show.

Razer and Hwoarang grinned. "Yeah," Razer answered, "Miharu, too. I'll go give them a call. I'll make sure Miharu brings some lip gloss."

She smirked, narrowly missing the pillow flying in her direction.

* * *

Razer walked slowly back to the waiting boys, shaking her head. It was Miharu. Xiaoyu was sick with stomach flu, and she didn't feel like coming without her - she apologized for bailing on them. She really hoped Xiaoyu would feel better soon, but she had to admit that she was selfishly pleased by this development. Sure, Xiaoyu was nice to be around, but she was more of an...acquaintance. Just the three of them, Razer, Hwoarang and Seong-Hada - this had worked out brilliantly, she inwardly smiled.

"Xiao is sick," she told them, "She and Miharu aren't coming."

"I guess the flu is making another round. Maybe we should do this another time so we don't catch it. It's also still really icy out there from the snow," Seong-Hada pressed.

Before Razer could agree, Hwoarang spoke. "I'm still up for it, but if you'd rather stay behind..."

"No, I'm coming," Seong-Hada interrupted, "I was just thinking about Xiaoyu and Miharu. Let's go!" He started towards the car.

"All right, then," Hwoarang said, as if that settled everything. He seemed more comfortable than anyone else. Seong-Hada climbed into the back seat of the car with a sad expression. "Come on, SH, you see Xiao every other day. One day won't kill you, will it?" he said, smirking at the younger Korean in the rear-view mirror. If looks could kill, Hwoarang would be six feet underground by now.

* * *

The movie was exactly what it professed to be. In just the opening credits, half a dozen people had been blown apart and one got beheaded. The girl in front of them put her hands over her eyes and turned her face into her boyfriend's chest. He patted her shoulder, and winced occasionally, too. Seong-Hada didn't look like he was watching. His face was stiff as he glared toward the fringe of the curtain above the screen.

Razer settled in to endure the two hours, watching the colours and the movement on the screen rather than seeing the shapes of people and cars and buildings. But then Hwoarang started snickering. "What?" Razer whispered.

"Oh, come on!" he hissed back, "The blood squirted twenty feet out of that guy! How fucking fake can you get?" He chuckled again, as a flagpole speared another guy against a wall. After that, she really watched the show, laughing with him as the mayhem got more and more ridiculous. How was she ever going to fight the blurring lines in their relationship if she enjoyed being with him so much?

Both Hwoarang and Seong-Hada had claimed the armrests either side of her. Seong-Hada's hand was clenched in a loose fist, whereas Hwoarangs own rested lightly, palm up, in a strange looking position. Like a bear trap, open and ready. Hwoarang had the habit of taking her hand whenever the opportunity arose, but here in the darkened movie theatre, in front of strangers, it would have a different significance - and Razer was sure he knew it.

The Greek woman folded her arms tightly across her chest and hoped that his hand fell asleep. About half way through the film, Seong-Hada pulled his arm off the armrest and leaned forward to put his head in his hands, then he moaned. "Are you okay?" she murmured.

The couple in front of them turned around to look at him as he groaned again.

"No," he moaned, "I think I'm sick." Razer could see the sheen of sweat on his brow in the light of the screen. Seong-Hada groaned again, and bolted for the door. She got up to follow him, and Hwoarang copied her immediately.

"No, stay," she whispered, "I'll make sure he's okay." Hwoarang came anyway. "Look, you don't have to come. Stay and get your moneys worth of carnage," she said as she walked up the aisle.

"Nah, it's okay. You sure can pick them, Raze. This movie is shit." His voice rose to its normal pitch as they walked out of the theatre.

"Me?" she hissed, "You suggested it!"

He grinned.

There was no sign of Seong-Hada in the hallway, and Razer was glad then that Hwoarang had come with her - he walked into the men's bathroom to check for him there. The red-head was back in a few seconds. "Oh, he's in there, all right," he said, rolling his eyes, "I never knew Seong-Hada was such a poof. Xiao should hold out for someone with a stronger stomach. Someone who laughs at the gore that makes weaker guys puke."

"I'll tell Xiaoyu to keep her eyes open for someone like that."

They were all alone in the hallway. Both theatres were halfway through the film, and it was deserted, probably because people were afraid to come out in the snow - quiet enough for them to hear the popcorn popping at the food counter in the lobby. Hwoarang went to sit on a bench against the wall, patting the spot next to him. "He sounded like he was going to be in there a long time," he said, stretching his legs out in front of him as he settled in to wait.

Razer joined him with a sigh. It looked like he was thinking about blurring more lines. Sure enough, as soon as she sat down, he shifted over to put his arm around her shoulders. "Hwoarang," she protested, leaning away. He dropped his arm, not looking bothered at all by the minor rejection. He reached and took her hand firmly, wrapping his other hand around her wrist when she tried to pull away again.

"Hang on a minute, Raze," he said in a calm voice, "Tell me something."

The Greek woman grimaced. She didn't want to do this. Not just not now, but not ever. There was little left in her life at this point that was more important than Hwoarang. But he seemed determined to ruin everything.

"What?" she muttered sourly.

"You like me, right?"

"You know I do."

"Better than that freak you live with right now?"

"Hwoarang..." she warned.

"Sorry," he apologized, "Better than any of the guys you know?"

"Minus SH and Baek - yes. Better than the girls, too," she pointed out.

"But that's all," he said, and it wasn't a question.

It was hard to answer that one. Would he get hurt and avoid her like he did before? How would she stand for that? "Yes," Razer whispered.

He grinned at her, "That's all right, you know. As long as you like me the best."

"I've liked you the best for over eight years."

He smiled, "_And _you think I'm good looking - sort of. I'm prepared to be annoyingly persistent."

"I'm not going to change," she said, and though she tried to keep her voice normal, she could hear the sadness in it.

Hwoarang's face was no longer teasing, "It's still him, isn't it?" Razer cringed. Funny how he seemed to know not to say the name; ending in another nightmare. He picked up on so much about her that she never said. "But don't get mad at me for hanging around, all right? I've got loads of time."

Razer sighed, "You shouldn't waste it on me," she said, though she wanted him to. Especially because he'd accepted her as she was - damaged goods, as is.

"It's what I want to do, as long as you still like to be with me."

"I can't imagine how I could _not_ like being with you," she told him honestly.

Hwoarang beamed, "I can live with that."

"Just don't expect more," she warned him, trying to pull her hand away. He held onto it obstinately.

"This doesn't bother you, does it?" he asked, squeezing her fingers.

"No," she replied. Truthfully, it felt nice. His hand was so much warmer than hers; it always felt too cold these days. "And you don't care what _he_ thinks." He put a hand over his forehead, pretending that his fingers were bangs.

Razer grinned, "I guess not."

"So what's the problem?"

"The problem," she said, "is that it means something different to you than it does to me."

"Well." He tightened his hand around hers."That's _my_ problem, isn't it?"

"Fine," she grumbled. "Don't forget it, though."

He chuckled quietly for a minute while his pinky finger absently traced against the side of her arm. "That's a weird mark you've got there," he said, twisting her arm to examine it. "How did that happen?"

The index finger of his free hand followed the outline of the bruise that was visible against her tanned skin.

Razer bit her lip. "Do you honestly expect me to remember where I get every cut or bruise from?" She waited for the memory to hit - a week ago, she spoke out of place to Jin...and paid the price. But, as it often did, Hwoarang's presence kept her from seeing it.

"It looks really bad," he murmured, pressing lightly against it, he regretted it when Razer winced from the touch. He frowned, "Has Jin been doing stuff to you?"

"No." Quick reply. Obviously a lie.

"Razer-"

"Hwoarang, Jin hasn't been hitting me, okay? Now please drop it."

**/Stop lying to yourself, Razer./**

_Shut up._

The Blood Talon sighed, then Seong-Hada stumbled out of the bathroom, his face ashen and covered in sweat. He looked horrible.

"Oh, god, SH," Razer gasped.

"Do you mind leaving early please?" he whispered.

"No, of course not." Razer pulled her hand free of Hwoarang's and went to help Seong-Hada walk. He looked unsteady.

"You must have what Xiao has," Hwoarang pointed out. "Or was the movie too much for you?" He grinned.

Seong-Hada's glare feigned malevolence. "I was feeling sick before the movie even started."

"Why didn't you say something?" Hwoarang scolded as the younger Korean staggered towards the exit.

"I was hoping it would go away," he said.

"One minute," Hwoarang said as they headed for the door. He walked over to the food counter. "Could I have a popcorn bucket?"

The girl behind the counter took one look at Seong-Hada and literally threw a bucket into Hwoarang's hands. "Get him outside, please."

Razer led Seong-Hada out into the cool air and he inhaled deeply. Hwoarang was right behind them. He helped him into the car and handed him the bucket with a serious gaze. "Please," was all he said. The Korean males both knew that Baek would kill them if they got vomit in his car. Razer rolled the window down to get fresh air in the car and so that it would not stink of vomit.

Seong-Hada groaned in the back seat, and threw up in the bucket. Razer grimaced, hoping her own stomach could handle the noise and smell. Hwoarang checked anxiously over his shoulder to make sure the car wasn't defiled.

* * *

The road felt longer on the way back.

Hwoarang was quiet, thoughtful. He left his arm around Razer's shoulders, and it was so warm that the cold wind felt good.

Razer stared out the window, consumed with guilt. It was so wrong to encourage Hwoarang. Pure selfishness. It didn't matter that she'd tried to make her position clear. If he felt any hope at all that this could turn into something other than friendship, then she hadn't been clear enough. How could she explain so that he could understand? She was an empty shell. Like a bleak house - condemned - for months she'd been utterly uninhabitable. Now she was a little improved. The front room was in better repair. But that was all - just one small piece.

Hwoarang deserved better than that - better than a one room, falling-down fixer-upper. No amount of investment on his part could put her back in working order. Yet she knew that she wouldn't send him away, regardless. Razer needed him too much, and she was selfish. Maybe she could make her side more clear, so that he would know to leave her. The thought made her shudder, and Hwoarang tightened his arm around her.


	4. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Four: Blends**_

Time began to trip along much more quickly than before. Over three weeks: Work, Christmas, sleep, and Razer - though not necessarily in that order - created a neat and effortless pattern to follow. And Hwoarang had a wish: try not to be angry about Jin anymore. Of course, he couldn't fool himself completely. When he stopped to take stock of his life, which he tried not to do too often, he couldn't ignore the implications of his behaviour. Hwoarang was like a lost moon - his planet destroyed in some post-apocalyptic, disaster movie scenario of desolation - that continued, nevertheless, to circle in a tight little orbit around the empty space left behind, ignoring the laws of gravity.

As expected by Hwoarang; in Razer's mansion, Christmas was no fun at all. Firstly, Jin would not stop interrogating her, totally exhausted from whatever he'd been doing early on in the morning - not even wishing her a Merry Christmas. Secondly, Hwoarang didn't visit until noon - so Razer just walked around the confines of the large garden, mindlessly flicking her gaze tree to tree, looking for something decent to see. She'd called nearly every one of her friends to ask them if they wanted to visit or something; but, as she should have guessed, they were at home with their families, laughing and opening presents and generally having a _good time_. It was a little saddening that Razer didn't even get a present from Jin that year. But Hwoarang made up for that - he'd practically bought out the whole of HMV for her. The year before, she'd gotten Hwoarang a brand new pair of red converse high tops - he was over the moon.

It wasn't like her boyfriend to forget. Although, it wasn't like him to remember, either.

Razer wasn't one to praise the current Jin but he was just so fucking strong. She had stood up against him a few times; only to get knocked down again. She had to be honest, her boyfriend was one strong guy - apart from all the tournaments he'd participated in. He may not have looked it, but within that fragile shell was a hell of a fighter.

* * *

_A young boy wandered into the kitchen, throwing his bag into the corner of the living room next to a pile of dirty washing. "Mum?" he yelled, "Mum, where are you?" He turned to his little brother, noticing him walk over to the table and picking up a small piece of paper. "What's that, bro?" he asked him, wandering over to his side._

_The green-eyed male shook his head. "I dunno," he murmured, beginning to read._

_**My darling sons,**_

_**You don't know how hard it is for me to write this letter, knowing that when it is written, the pen I used to write it with will no longer be within my grip - much like you two. I've spent so much of my time protecting you, holding you in my arms, never wanting to let you go - keeping you out of danger. I always said it was a harsh world out there, but I never realised that the real danger was here. And that danger is called 'father'.**_

_"What? What does she mean?" the youngest thought aloud, squinting at the rushed handwriting on the paper in his brother's grip. The raven-haired youngster shrugged, reading on._

_**I'm sure you are struggling to understand what I mean by father being the dangerous one. You've seen what he's done to me, covered me in bruises, shouted hurtful things to me, even threatened to kill me, but I never let it get to me because I wanted to look strong to you. I wanted you to think that I was capable of looking after two teenage boys, able to provide for you like any other mother could. I'm rambling, I know, but I want you to know what I've felt like over the past ten years. I've felt angry, sad, happy. All the emotions you can think of, I've experienced and felt...Yet, every good feeling was shot down in flames by, well, I think you two are intelligent enough to realise who I'm talking about...**_

_Their gaze flicked towards a family photo and they glared at it._

_**But, anyway, I can't apologise enough for what I'm about to say to you two. I've left. I've left home and I'm never coming back. That probably doesn't shock you, I've left a few times before, but I always came back. I'm not coming back this time. I'm sorry. You two mean the universe to me, I hope you know that. I've always been proud of you and I always will be - remember that. Draw strength from each other, and follow your heart. It will never fail you.**_

_**Lots of love and forever,**_

_**Mum**_

_The youngest sibling's eyes began to blur with disbelieving tears and he heard his brother's heavy breathing behind him. He sounded almost like he was trying not to cry. blinked when he realised that his hands were trembling. The auburn-haired boy screamed inhumanely and fell to his knees, fisting tufts of hair in his fingers, threatening to pull it straight from the roots. But he didn't care. He wanted it to hurt, to cover the inexplicable pain that he felt after reading that letter. His mum was the only one he could trust and confide in when he was sad or angry. She knew that dad was getting worse and more violent every day. How were they...going to protect themselves from that monster that they shamefully called their father?_

_They would have needed a miracle._

_The raven-haired Japanese turned to his brother, "The phone. Where's the phone?"_

_"Here."_

_He took it from the other sibling and dialed a number. After a few dial tones, a husky voice answered from the other end of the line. "Hello?"_

_"Uncle Hwoarang!"_

_There was a laugh from the red-head, "I'm not really your Uncle, kid. Your mom thrust that name upon me."_

_"Whatever. Mom's gone!"_

_Hwoarang sounded confused. "What do you mean 'gone'?"_

_"Me and my brother came home and found a note she'd written, saying she'd run away and that she won't be coming back!"_

_There was a long silence before the Blood Talon spoke again. "...Razer's ran away?"_"Hwoarang...Hey, dude, snap out of it!"

* * *

Hwoarang blinked and looked around, noticing that he was now on the floor and his cereal was now splatted against the wall, the plate cracked into two and the spoon lay five feet away from it, dripping milk onto the carpet. The TV remote was in his right hand - he pulled his fingers off of it and inspected the damage he'd caused - quite bad - the batteries had popped out onto the floor and the power light had smashed, including a few buttons. He looked up to Seong-Hada and cleared his throat of the bile collecting there. "Hey."

"Hey? You basically smash the living room to pieces and you just go 'Hey'?" He shook his head, "Come on, I'll get some water and a bandage," he said, patting his friend on the back.

"I don't need any help. I only hurt my knee," Hwoarang mumbled, rubbing the said appendage with his trembling hand.

"Um, Hwoarang? You've got a cut on your hand, and it's pouring blood," he informed him.

Hwoarang curled his hand into a fist. Sure enough, it was wet and sticky. He could smell nothing but the blood, and he had to fight off the unusual nausea growing inside him, "Shit, I'm sorry, SH." He pushed his palm up against his leg, soaking his jeans with the coppery substance, as if he could force the blood back inside his hand.

"Why are you apologising for bleeding?" he wondered as he wrapped an arm around Hwoarang's narrow waist and pulled him to his feet, "Come on. I'll take you into the kitchen to clean up the wound."

Seong-Hada shook his head, "Too much plastic in the wound." He reached over and ripped a long, thin scrap from the bottom of the white tablecloth. Baek was going to kill him but that could wait. He twisted it around Hwoarang's arm above the elbow to form a tourniquet. The smell of the blood was making the red-head dizzy and his ears rang, "Hwoa," Seong-Hada said calmly, "Shall we go to the hospital or shall I take care of it here?"

"Here, please. I hate the hospital. Too many bad memories," he said. If he took him to the hospital, there would be no way to keep this from Baek. A numb, dead feeling was spreading through Hwoarang's arm. Though it eased the sting, it reminded him of the gash, and he watched Seong-Hada's face carefully to distract him from what his hands were doing. His hair gleamed in the sunlight filtering in through the kitchen window as he bent over the red-head's arm. Hwoarang could feel the faint stirrings of unease in the pit of his stomach, but he was determined not to let his very,_ very _unusual squeamishness get the best of him. There was no pain now, just a gentle tugging sensation that he tried to ignore. No reason to get sick like a little baby. "Well, I know how to ruin a day," he sighed.

"It's not your fault," Seong-Hada smirked with a chuckle. "It could happen to anyone."

"_Could_," Hwoarang repeated. "But it usually just happens to me." He laughed again. Hwoarang couldn't find any trace of anxiety in his face. He worked with quick, sure movements. The only sound besides their quiet breathing was the soft _plink_, _plink _as the tiny fragments of black plastic dropped one by one onto the kitchen table. Hwoarang was silently amazed by how mature his little 'brother' was in times of worry and panic, and what amazed him even more so was the fact that he could play doctor even though he hated the sight and smell of blood. "How can you do this?" Hwoarang demanded. "You hate blood."

"Years of practice," he told the older Korean.

"Do you think it would be harder if you had to do it on yourself?" he pressed, turning his eyes away from his hand being operated on, breathing through his mouth to refrain from smelling the blood.

"Maybe." He shrugged his shoulders, but his hands remained steady. "I've never tried to make myself look at blood. But if it's for an important cause, then yeah." He flashed a smile in Hwoarang's direction, one that only him, one of his closest friends, could understand. "I enjoy helping people too much."

_Plink_, _plink_, _plink_. Hwoarang was surprised at how much plastic there seemed to be in his hand. He couldn't have squeezed the remote that hard. "What is it you enjoy?" he wondered. It didn't make sense to him - the years of struggle and self-denial he must have spent to get to the point where he could endure this so easily. Besides, Hwoarang wanted to keep him talking; the conversation kept his mind off the queasy feeling in his stomach.

Seong-Hada's dark eyes were calm and thoughtful as he answered. "Hmm. What I enjoy the most is...well, being with you and Razer, I guess. It helps me to forget; forget what our lifestyle was like and when I'm with you two it...eases the pain a little, know what I mean?" One side of his mouth pulled up in half a smile.

Hwoarang mulled over the answer he got while he poked around, making sure all the plastic splinters were gone. Then he looked around it the top drawer underneath the sideboard for new tools, and Hwoarang tried not to picture a needle and thread. "You try hard to make up for something that was never your fault," he suggested while a new kind of tugging started at the edges of his skin. "What I mean is, it's not like you asked for that. You didn't choose that kind of life, and yet you had tried so hard to enjoy what you had."

"I don't know that I'm making up for anything," Seong-Hada disagreed lightly. "Like everything in life, I had to decide what to do with what I was given."

"That makes it sound too easy."

"Hwoarang, you're older than me. Stop asking so many questions. That's my job." He examined his friend's hand again. "There," he said, snipping a thread. "All done." He wiped an over-sized Q-tip, dripping in a syrup-coloured liquid, thoroughly across the operation site. The smell was strange; it made the red-head's head spin. The syrup stained his skin. Seong-Hada put all the dirty gauze and the plastic slivers in a small, yellow box and threw them into the bin. The sudden noise made him jump. "Sorry," he apologized. "That ought to do it...So I didn't agree people's ideology. So what? But never in my nineteen years, have I ever gone against their will again." Hwoarang pretended to examine the dressing on his hand to hide his surprise at the direction their conversation had taken. First, they were talking about Seong-Hada's dislike for blood, then it took a twist to people's attitude towards the blue-haired Korean. "I know this all sounds weird coming from your goofy 'little brother'," he grinned. "But I'd hoped, when we were hustling on the streets, that there was still a point to life; me, you and Razer, I mean. It was a long shot, I'll admit," he continued in an offhand voice. "By all accounts, we were damned regardless. But I hoped, maybe foolishly, that we'd get some measure of credit for trying to live it, anyway."

"I don't think that's foolish," Hwoarang mumbled. He couldn't think of anyone, who wouldn't be impressed by Seong-Hada, no matter how naive and eccentric he was. "And I don't think many other people would, either."

"Actually, you're the first person to agree with me. Not even Razer fully believes me."

"Really? Other people don't feel the same?" he asked, surprised.

"Nope." He walked over to the sink and washed his hands free of blood and the syrup-coloured substance, grabbing a towel and wiping them, he sat down next to Hwoarang again. "You're acting so much older than me, SH."

"That's because I'm not a dope."

"Fuck you."

He stared into his eyes. "Why did you get do worked up, Hwoa?"

Hwoarang's eyes turned down to his stitched-up hand and sighed. "I...thought about Razer and Jin."

Seong-Hada groaned and put his face in his hands, rubbing it angrily. "Hwoarang, you can't go breaking things _every _time you think about Razer being with him. You need to control your anger."

"How?"

"Well, what I do when I'm angry - which is hardly ever - and want to let off steam is take a walk."

Hwoarang raised an eyebrow, "Take a walk? Seriously?"

"Yeah. It calms me down and relaxes my mind, making me remember the good things in life."

"Like what?"

Seong-Hada smiled, "Nature, friends. That sort of thing." Hwoarang smirked. If you stood him and Seong-Hada together, you'd think that they were really close friends. He was kind, calm and collected; whereas, Hwoarang was rude, selfish and arrogant. Opposites attract in friendship or love. "But," Seong-Hada started, "That doesn't make me forget what happened to my parents."

"Yeah," he murmured, clenching his good hand and releasing it again a few moments later. "Major drag, huh?"

"But, still, doesn't make me any less of a baby," Seong-Hada smiled.

They laughed, just for a minute they laughed, and for that minute it seemed that all the things they had shared, when they were younger; more naive, and whatever had transpired throughout the decade was now gone and forgotten. And then that moment itself passed, and Hwoarang realised that the things they had shared were now just memories and could not be re-lived. What was gone was gone.

They were no longer kids. They missed that more than anything else.


	5. Chapter 4

**___Chapter Five: Numb_**

___The darkness._

_The darkness was intense._

_She didn't know how to describe it. Darkness is darkness, right?_

_She knew something was happening. For a long time there seemed to be silence, but Razer knew there'd been some sound that hadn't belonged there. That's what had woken her. At least she felt that that's what had woken her. She believed that she had heard someone screaming._

_She had no idea where she was. The room she was in looked a little similar to her old one back in Greece, but with subtle differences like there was...no floor?_

_Razer sat up in her bed and listened. _

_There was movement, she could hear movement, and she believed it was coming from the room facing her, the room where Hwoarang was sleeping. Razer moved to sit on the edge of her bed and then she stood up. She felt a little uneasy with the sudden awakening, the sense of confusion and disorientation she was experiencing. All these things contributed to a feeling that her anchors to reality had slipped, the ropes were spooling out and she was floating into some errant tide that would lose her._

_She gathered her thoughts. She moved towards the door._

Thud!

_A definite sound, something heavy falling to the floor, heavier than a footstep._

_Razer was puzzled. She figured perhaps Hwoarang was fooling around, but by the time she reached the door the feeling that something was wrong had gathered substance. Intuition was not the Greek's strongest point, but there was something about the atmosphere, something about the way the hair stood on end on the back of her neck, something about the tension Razer felt in her lower gut that told her that she was walking towards something fearful._

_And someone screamed._

_And even as Razer reached for the door handle she could feel this sensation in her lower gut. It felt like a snake was unravelling itself in her intestines. The sense of tension increased right through her. She started to open the door._

_Hwoarang screamed again._

_The door was three, four, inches ajar, and then that sound came at her like a freight train. She started, took a step backwards, and for one awful, horrifying second she believed that someone was killing Hwoarang. It seemed such a ridiculous thought that she found herself smiling, but it was the smile of someone afraid._

_Something was happening in her house. Something was happening ten yards from where Razer stood in the shadow within her room, and she had no idea of what was going on._

_Except that it was bad._

_Razer looked around the room for something to defend herself, something with which she could protect Hwoarang, but there was nothing. She stepped towards the door again, opened it a little further, and then the screaming became a continuous rage of sound, a torrent, a rush of madness exploding from the door facing hers._

_**/ Go! Hurry! /**_

_The Greek went out like a crazed madman, fear cowering behind her some inner force impelled her, drove her, took over her body and propelled her across the hall to the opposite doorway._

_A figure was next to the bed, who, impossibly, looked a lot like Razer. The projection of the Greek stood beside the bed, her eyes wide, her hands reaching out towards the centre of the room. Her whole body was spattered and coursed with bright red blood, covered in it._

_Hwoarang lay on the bed, his form barely visible among the scarlet sheets._

_Razer opened her mouth._

_The man she'd met in the fourth tournament, the man who'd caused her, Jin and Hwoarang so much grief over the past few years, appeared out of left field like a shadow and Razer felt a pain the like of which she'd never experienced. Her head felt as if it had been smashed with a baseball bat. Like Babe Ruth had hit a home run through her forehead._

_As Razer went down she could see a second man wrestling with her doppelgänger in the dream. She was screaming, sounded like her body was being ripped in two; Razer staggered to her feet, felt herself skidding awkwardly. She looked down, and her feet, her own bare feet, were sliding back and forth on the runnels of blood that seemed to be moving beneath her as if they possessed a mind of their own. She lost her balance, grabbed the side of the bed and went crashing down to the ground once more._

_She began screaming too, and then she felt a tremendous pain collide with the side of her body._

_Everything was turning black._

_Black and grey with red waves inside it..._

_And she could smell something, something like dirt, and later she would think that perhaps it was the smell of so much blood...and she could see the blood as she fell...like someone had gutted a pig and swung it around the room...and then there was blackness coming like ink through water, like indigo to midnight to lampblack to ebony to jet..._

_Razer tried to stand again, reached for the sheet that hung from the side of the mattress, and used it to haul herself up. As she came to her knees, a second collision impacted against her body. She howled in agony. She rolled sideways bringing the sheet down across her, a wet, heavy sheet, so wet and so warm..._

_She tried to slide underneath the bed, tried to gain some purchase against the wet floor, but it was useless, and she was losing consciousness..._

_"Kill the slut,"_ _someone hissed._

_And Razer thought she heard her father's voice._

_No, not her father...it was Jin Kazama._

_And then it sounded like Jinpachi Mishima. He was saying something, quoting something, something chilling..._

_'My surface is myself...under which to witness...youth is buried...Roots?...Everybody has roots...'_

_Razer opened her mouth to scream again and felt a hand around her throat, a hand that was squeezing every ounce of breath from her lungs. She flung her arms wildly, she connected with something, something hard..._

_"Asshole motherfucker!"_

_A fist collided with the side of her face. She felt as if all her teeth had moved from one side to the other, and then she was gasping as her head was forced down against the floor, and she could smell the blood, taste it in her mouth. Her own? She didn't know. Christ, there was so much blood...so much blood._

_She was dragged across the room._

_She heard her doppelgänger screaming again._

_Razer tried to shout her name._

_There was a sound - like a butcher chopping raw meat - and then there was silence but for her own breathing...her own desperate struggle for breath as the two men started raining punches down on her. Razer moved sideways, sideways again, and somehow she managed to roll onto her side and get to her knees. Pushing her back against the wall she started to rise, and then heaved herself forward, propelling herself towards the bed as if there she could find some sanctuary._

_And he was there._

_Hwoarang was there._

_Hwoarang's eyes staring back at her from his head._

_His head lying on its side amidst a still wave of blood that had erupted from his body and covered much of the room. His body lay still, his arms outstretched like Christ crucified. His head on the side of the mattress._

_Disconnected. Detached._

_Razer opened her mouth to scream again, and a shoe collided with her lower jaw and sent her hurtling back against the wall. She saw nothing but blackness...blackness and the image of Hwoarang's decapitated head staring back at her from the torrent of red..._

_She heard Hwoarang's voice as she slid into the darkness, then the figure of Kazuya looming over her in the fading room. He was smiling._

_"Run, Raze, you have to run!"_

_And then there was nothing._

* * *

Razer always had nightmares now, every night. You'd think she'd get bored after so many months, grow immune to it. But the dreams never failed to horrify her, and it only ended when she woke herself with screaming. Jin didn't look to see what was wrong anymore, to make sure there was no intruder strangling her or something like that - he was used to it now and didn't even really care, anyway.

Her nightmare probably wouldn't even frighten other people. Nothing jumped out and screamed "Boo!" There was no zombies, no ghosts, no monsters. There was nothing, really. Only nothing. Just the endless maze of nothingness, so quiet that the silence was an uncomfortable pressure against her eardrums. It was dark, with only enough light to see that there was nothing to see. Razer hurried through the gloom without a path, always searching, searching, searching, getting more frantic as the time stretched on, trying to move faster, though the speed made her clumsy...Then there would come the point in her dream - and she could feel it coming now, but could never seem to wake herself up in time before it hit - when she couldn't remember what it was that she was searching for.

When she realized that there _was_ nothing to search for, and nothing to find. That there never had been anything more than just this empty, dreary space, and there never would be anything more for her...nothing but nothing...

That was usually about when the screaming started.

Razer wasn't paying attention to where she was going - just wandering through empty, wet side roads as she avoided the ways that would take her home - because she didn't really have anywhere to go.

She wished she could feel numb again, but she couldn't remember how she'd managed it before. The nightmares were nagging at her mind and making her think about how much danger her loved ones were in. She didn't want to remember the forest...the dream in which Hwoarang was wracked with inhuman seizures until he too, became a monster like Kazuya Mishima. Even as she shuddered away from the images, she felt her eyes fill with tears and the aching begin around the edges of her frail heart. She took one hand from her side and wrapped it around her chest to hold it in one piece.

_"It's still him, isn't it?" _The words ran through her head. They were just words, soundless, like print on a page. Just words, but they ripped and tore at the walls of her heart until she was consumed with guilt.

Razer curled over, resting her forehead against a tree. She wondered how long this would last. Maybe someday, years from now - if the pain would just decrease the point where she could bear it - she would be able to look back on those few short years that would always be the best of her life, where her and Hwoarang had finally bonded over the years - when she was taken in by Baek and his reluctant, withdrawn pupil. And, if it were possible that the pain would ever soften enough to allow her to do that, she was sure that she would feel grateful for as much time as Hwoarang had given her. More than she'd asked for, more than she deserved. Maybe someday she'd be able to see it that way.

But what if the pain or fear never got any better? If the raw edges around her heart never healed? If the damage was permanent and irreversible?

Razer stared out toward the road for a long moment, her thoughts moving sluggishly - she couldn't seem to make those thoughts go anywhere. Razer began walking again, and stepped under the canopy of trees and into the drizzle. The cold rain dripped through her hair and then trickled down her cheeks like freshwater tears. It helped to clear her head. She blinked the water from her eyes, staring blankly across the forest landscape.

The forest was full of life today, all the little creatures enjoying the momentary wetness. Somehow, though, even with the birds chirping and cawing, the forest seemed eerily creepier today; it reminded Razer of her most feared nightmare. She knew it was just because she was alone, missing Hwoarang's carefree whistle and the sound of another pair of feet walking across the damp ground.

The sense of unease grew stronger the deeper she got into the trees. Breathing started to get more difficult - not because of exertion, but because she was having trouble with the stupid pain in the chest again. Razer kept her arms tight around her torso and tried to banish the ache from her body and thoughts. She almost turned around, but she hated to waste the effort she'd already expended. The rhythm of her footsteps started to numb her mind and her pain as she trudged on. Her breathing evened out eventually, and she was glad that she hadn't quit.

Razer didn't realize how much more efficiently she was moving. She thought she'd covered about three miles, and she wasn't even tired yet. And then, with an abruptness that disoriented her, she stepped through a low arch made by a few evergreens - pushing past the ferns - into an empty meadow. It was a strange place, of that she was instantly sure. She'd never seen anything so symmetrical. It was perfectly round as if had intentionally created it that way. To the east, Razer could hear a stream bubbling quietly. The place wasn't nearly so stunning without the sunlight, but it was still very beautiful. It was the wrong season for wildflowers; the ground was thick with tall grass that swayed in the calm breeze.

What was the point of going any farther? Nothing lingered here. She wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to have seen or feel here, but the meadow was empty of atmosphere, empty of everything, just like everywhere else. Just like her nightmares. Razer's head swirled dizzily.

This was the meadow that her and Jin had come to previously, before Kazama had been corrupted entirely by the Devil within. She was sure of it. So many memories...so many bad choices.

At least she'd come alone. She felt a rush of thankfulness as she realized that. If she'd discovered the meadow with Hwoarang...well, there was no way Razer could have disguised the abyss she was plunging into now. How could she have explained why she was fracturing into so many tiny pieces, the way she had to curl into a ball to keep her heart from aching again, from tearing her apart? It was so much better that she didn't have an audience.

And she wouldn't have to explain to anyone why she was in such a hurry to leave the dojang, either. Hwoarang would have assumed, after going through so much trouble to locate this stupid place for her and Jin to escape to, she would want to spend so much time here. But Razer was already trying to find the strength to get to her feet again, forcing herself out of the ball so that she could escape. There was too much pain in this empty place to bear - she would crawl away if she had to.

How lucky that she was alone!

_Alone._ Razer repeated that word with grim satisfaction as she wrenched herself to her feet despite the pain. At precisely that moment, a figure stepped out from the trees to the north, some thirty paces away.

A dizzying array of emotions shot through the Greek in a second. The first was surprise; she was far from any trail here, and she didn't expect company. Then, as her eyes focused on the motionless figure, seeing the utter stillness, the scarred skin, a rush of piercing hope rocked through her. Razer suppressed it as her eyes continued to the face beneath the black hair, the face that wasn't the one she wanted to see. Next was fear; this was not the face Razer grieved for, but it was close enough for her to know that the man facing her was not a lost hiker.

And finally, in the end, recognition.

"Kazuya!"

It was an irrational response. She probably should have stopped at fear.


	6. Chapter 5

**_Chapter Six: Milestone_**

Yes, fear would have made a bit more sense, but all Razer felt was a surprising, inadvertent satisfaction. The meadow was alive again. A darker life, she admitted, but alive all the same. This was the connection she had sought. The proof, however acute, was there - somewhere in the same world she lived - her Jin_ did_ exist. It was impossible how Kazuya looked exactly the same as the last time Razer had seen him - minus the muscle mass, which had increased dramatically. "Razer?" he asked, looking somehow confused at her presence.

She smiled. "You remember." It was ridiculous that she should be so elated because this man knew her name.

Kazuya grinned. "I...didn't expect to see you here." He strolled towards her, bemused.

_**/ Liar, / **_Angel hissed.

"Isn't it the other way around? I do live here. I thought you would have gone to Korea."

Kazuya stopped about ten paces away, cocking his head to the side. "You're right," he agreed. "I did go to Korea. But I couldn't find who I desired to search for. Still, I didn't expect...When I found that your 'family' weren't there, I thought they'd moved on."

"Oh." Razer bit her lip.

_**/ Lie to him, Razer. /**_ Angel instructed.

"They did move on," she finally managed to tell him.

"Hmm," he murmured. "I'm surprised that the Koreans left you behind. Weren't you sort of a...pet of theirs?" His eyes were not completely innocent of any offence.

Razer smiled wryly. "Something like that."

"Hmm," he said, thoughtful again. The Greek took an involuntary step back, and his curious, dark red eye followed the movement. "Do they visit often, then?" he asked, still casual, but his weight shifted towards her.

_**/ Keep it casual, /**_ that soft, echoing voice told her, a lot more commanding that previously.

Razer did what the voice did to do. "Now and again." She tried to make her voice sound as casual as ever, relaxed and light. "The time seems longer to me, I imagine. You know how they are and how easily they get distracted." She was babbling. She had to shut herself up before she said anything too confidential.

_**/ Not that casual. /**_

"I see," he muttered.

"I'll have to mention to Baek that you stopped by. He'll be sorry that they missed your visit." She winced as she spoke absolute lies. She didn't like lying. "I probably shouldn't mention it to...Hwoarang, I suppose-" She grimaced. "He has a pretty bad temper...well, I'm sure you remember. He's still touchy about the whole fifth tournament thing." _Why the fuck am I still talking? __Shut your mouth, Athane. _She rolled her eyes and waved a hand dismissively, like it was all ancient history, but there was an edge to the hysteria in her voice. She wondered if Kazuya could recognize what it was.

"Is he really?" Kazuya asked pleasantly...sceptically.

"Mm-hmm. Remember? You put him on crutches for a week," she retorted.

Kazuya nodded. "That was most unfortunate. Send him my apologies."

_Pretty late now, isn't it?_

Kazuya took a casual step to the side, gazing around the little meadow. Razer didn't miss that the step brought him closer to her. In her head, the voice responded with a low growl.

"So how are things working out with Anna? Being your PA and all that..."

That question made the man pause. "I like Anna very much," he mused. "...I've never been so persistent with anyone before, and I enjoy the advantages, the novelty of it. But, the urge to tear her apart gets quite...out of hand, sometimes. I'm surprised that she's put up with me for so long." He smiled at her conspiratorially. "Sometimes I cheat."

Razer swallowed. Her foot started to ease back, but she froze when his red eyes flickered down to catch the movement. "Oh," she said in a faint voice. "Jin has problems like that, too."

_**/ Don't move, /**_Angel whispered. Razer tried to do what the voice told her. It was hard; the instinct to take flight was trying to kick in.

"Really?" Kazuya seemed interested. "Is that why you're so nervous?"

"No," she answered honestly. "Jin is more careful in public."

"Yes," Kazuya said. "I am too." The step forward he took was quite deliberate.

"Did Heihachi ever find you?" she asked, breathless, desperate to distract him. It was the first question that popped into her head, and she regretted saying it as soon as the words escaped her mouth. Heihachi - who _had_ haunted her with Kazuya, and then disappeared - was not someone she wanted to think of at that moment in time.

But the question did stop him. "Yes," he said, hesitating on that step and he made a face. "He won't be happy about this," he sighed, shaking his head.

"About what?" she asked, inviting him to continue.

Kazuya was glaring into the trees, away from the Greek. She took advantage of her diversion, taking a furtive step back. He looked back at her and smiled - the expression make him look like a black-haired angel. A rather controversial comparison. "About me killing you...and your red-headed friend," he answered in a low purr. Razer staggered back another step. The growling and hissing in her head made it hard to hear. "He wanted to save that part for himself. He's sort of...put out with you, Razer."

"Me?" she squeaked.

Kazuya shook his head and chuckled. "I know, it seems a little backward to me, too. But Jinpachi was his father, and no matter how much he loathed him, he was family - and you and Jin killed him." Razer inwardly winced. Even here, at the point of death, that name tore against her heart like the serrated edge of a rusty knife. That memory still brought back horrible, almost tangible, feelings to her mind. Razer remembered that night of the fight at Honmaru as though no other existed before it….the night she could not save her best friend, was too weak and much younger...the night she fought like a lioness defending her cub pleading on the wind for Hwoarang to wake up…

"He thought it more appropriate to kill you than Hwoarang - fair turnabout, family for family. He asked me to get an idea of the foundation for him, so to speak, seeing as where you and Jin live is heavily guarded, well, he will not be let in with just an ID card." Kazuya smirked. "I can't imagine you'd be so easy to get to. So maybe Heihachi's plan was flawed - apparently it wouldn't be the revenge he imagined, since you must not mean very much to Jin or Hwoarang if they left you here unprotected."

Kazuya's weight shifted slightly, and Razer stumbled another step back. "Jin will know you killed me. Then you'll be sorry," she stuttered, trying her best to scare him.

Kazuya tilted his head slightly as if he could not hear her, then he executed a grin, so evil and so cold, that Razer actually felt her heart stop for a split second. "And you think that he'll care?" Another blow, another tear through her chest. "When me and Jin met in the sixth tournament, I'd sworn to him that I'd get to you before anyone could come and protect you. Not him, not that blue-haired boy..." Kazuya cast his eyes up to her. "...and definitely not Hwoarang."

Razer went cold as Kazuya mentioned that third name. The nightmares. That's what they were referring to. That moment, where the Greek and the younger Mishima stood before each other, like something in a wild west movie. Razer would do all in her power to keep from Hwoarang getting hurt, all because of her wrong decisions in life. "You won't hurt Hwoarang. I cannot let that happen. He's been by my side for as long as I can remember, even when I treated him like crap on a few occasions, he stuck by me." Kazuya faltered in stance.

"You won't get to the people I love, Kazuya." Where this gumption was coming from, Razer had no clue. "And you know why?" She turned her forest green eyes up to meet his darker ones, a grin creeping onto her features. "Because I'm stronger than you." Razer challenged. The rest came in slow motion.

The raven-haired demon charged at the motionless Greek, aiming to execute a Slaughter Hook to her midriff. Razer swore she could see the fatal lightning flicker around his knuckles as she balanced into a left flamingo, the heel of her boot connecting with his fist, kicking it off with an amazingly agile display of reflexes. "What the fuck is this happy horse shit?" she taunted, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, tasting victory and the upper hand in this fight.

With a heavy sneer, Kazuya's leg once more returned to the ground, going in for a mid attack. The Greek counter-hit a Right PK, motion switching to swing out a left punch followed by a mid right kick, it connected to Kazuya, who had not foreseen that move from Razer, sending the Japanese man to his knee. Athane began to elicit Dynamite Heel, but her eyes widened when Kazuya grabbed her ankle and twisted it, forcing the Greek to flip over, landing on her hands in a push up position.

Razer cursed under her breath, coming to a stand, brushing her jeans off, staring at Kazuya with deadly intent. "Why can't you just let it go?"

Kazuya never left his stance. "What do you mean?" he asked, eyes narrowed as he studied his opponent's motions like a hawk.

"Why are you obeying Heihachi in the first place? He's caused you nothing but trouble in your life, yet, you still stay at his feet like a loyal puppy!"

_/ She's trying to catch you off guard, Kazuya, / _the Devil within hissed.

The younger Mishima faltered in his stance, trying to keep himself composed. "You do not understand. Heihachi is like a virus. You cannot abate him, you cannot outsmart him, no matter what you do. He is is always there. It can get so bad, he can control you without you even realising. Do you know what it is like to be controlled, Athane?"

"Yes, actually," she shot back, unconsciously setting her palm over her left hip. "It's like absolute hell. You can't do anything without them _watching_ you, _taunting_ you...it hurts."

"Yet...you persist with Jin, whereas Hwoarang, on the other hand, has nothing controlling him, well, in the sub-conscious sense." Kazuya shook his head. "After all the hell that Kazama filth has put you through, you still try to get through to him." He looked up at the Greek with pondering eyes. "Why?"

Razer cast her gaze down at the floor. "Because I love him."

Kazuya chuckled, cynicism creeping in. Sighing, he turned ever so slightly, around. "The Seventh Tournament is starting soon. Has Jin informed you of it yet?"

Okay...new subject matter. "Yes, he has. I'm looking forward to honing my skills again. Maybe this time, things will go a little more to plan. Are you going?"

There was something in his eyes, something sinister - it made Razer's breath catch in her throat. She could not describe the feeling exactly, but it was undoubtedly negative. "Yes. I will be going. I highly believe that Hwoarang will be competing by your side?"

"Most definitely," she answered, a small smirk playing on her lips.

Kazuya nodded. "Hmm. I will see you there, Athane," he said, beginning to walk back into the dark canopy of the forest. "But maybe, we might meet before that." As he vanished into the shadow of the woods, Razer exhaled the breath she didn't know she'd been holding in. She wiped the beads of sweat that collected on her brow, pulling on her black jumper. She heard those growls in her mind again and she sighed. _Problem?_

_**/ Hadn't you made the mistake of talking to him before now? / **_Angel hissed.

_I don't fear him now. I was only fearful just now because he was threatening to injure Hwoarang. Love conquers all, Angel. _Her eyes widened. _I...I didn't mean love. _Shit...

Angel smiled. _**/ It does. That's why you can't keep hiding it. /**_

_Hiding what? _Razer said out loud, walking back along the trail, to the mansion.

_**/ I am not blind, Razer. You and Hwoarang have been drifting away these past few months, all because of Jin. I have seen the bruises he has given you. I hate the fact that you do not act. /**_

_I must be saying something to make Jin angry..._

_**/ He is totally and permanently corrupted by Devil, Razer. Jin doesn't know who he is any more. He is in there, but he is slowly fading. If you love him that much, you must reach him before Devil completely devours him. /**_

"I just need more time," Razer growled.

_**/ ...Time is of the essence. / **_

* * *

Another day, another dollar.

"More like another nickel," Hwoarang muttered.

It was Tuesday afternoon, not the time to be in work. He wanted to be out and about in the sun, not cooped up in a stupid supermarket on minimum wage. That bastard Sayu called in sick and Hwoarang had to cover for him. The Blood Talon's spirits were elevated when a familiar face walked towards him. His grin widened when he saw the...very revealing top she was wearing. For someone who worked for Kazama, she was surprisingly outgoing. "Hey, Miyako," he greeted, putting his feet up on the checkout desk.

She waved at him, resting her elbows on the rubber conveyor belt. "So, you're covering for Sayu? What a gentleman."

"That little wank stain won't get away with it," he smirked, itching where his greeting badge was irritant on his skin. He cursed and unpinned it, throwing it underneath the register. "Keep that on any longer and I won't have a fucking nipple left."

Miyako giggled and looked up at him. "Hey, Sayu's organised this beach party Sunday. Hopefully, he will be better by then and I, uh...was wondering if...you wanted to...go...with me?"

Hwoarang stared at the Japanese girl's face, smirking at how adorable she looked, taking glances at him from beneath her eyelashes. He paused, his mind running over thoughts of Razer, and how she would react. _I do love her...but...maybe I should spread my wings...heh, good pun. _Hwoarang bit his lip, then smiled. What was the worst that could happen? Razer was okay with him dating Miharu, no matter how jealous she was.

Miyako had analysed how long he was taking to answer her, and took it as a no. "Never mi-"

"Sure."

She blinked. "Huh?"

Hwoarang smiled, "I'd love to go with you."

The brunette female flushed and smiled sheepishly. "It's a date. Come to my house on Sunday. 8pm." With that, she waved and walked off.

Hwoarang turned to stare at himself in the reflection of the checkout glass, a grin spreading over his features. "Maybe finally...I can move on."


	7. Chapter 6

**_Chapter Seven: Love Sucks_**

The day had started off bad.

It was Wednesday. It was the middle of the week, for a start, neither the beginning nor the end. Second of all, Razer had the mother of all headaches and to cope with this, she figured that the best solution was to sit by the kitchen table and stretch her arms out, head resting in the crook of them. A sudden loud noise pulled out of her stupor, pupils dilating as the bright blaze of the overhead light greeted her. She groaned, putting a hand over her eyes.

Miyako bit her lip and put a hand on the Greek's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Miss. Athane," she said softly, almost in fear.

Razer put her hands down and blinked rapidly, getting used to the lighting as the headache kicked in again "It's okay, Miyako." The maid nodded and went about her business, cleaning the sideboards, which were already immaculate. Maybe she just had nothing else to do or, maybe, had to tell Razer something.

Miyako paused in her work, staring at her reflection in the mirror. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Razer replied, filling a glass with water and proceeding to snap some painkillers from their foil sheet.

"I asked Hwoarang out yesterday."

Razer halted her actions, not noticing that the water in the glass she was holding, was vibrating in her grip. She cast her gaze downward. "Right."

Miyako continued, not noticing the Greek's sudden decline in motion. "But I was, uh, wondering if you were okay with it?"

Razer stared through the window. She had no idea that Miyako had a thing for Hwoarang and even if the two were getting terribly close, Razer would have just blamed the fact that the red-head visited nearly every other day. "I see." She was not totally oblivious to the voice in her head, telling her something she didn't want to hear; but it was the truth that was killing her.

**/You and Hwoarang are growing further apart with every waking day. Accept it, Razer. Don't keep him hanging on because we both know eventually...that he will let go./ **She didn't want to believe that. She didn't want to let him go. Yeah, sure, she was with Jin, but Hwoarang was hers. The Blood Talon belonged to Storm Wind. Nobody else.

But then again, Angel was right. Hwoarang had never stopped trying. Even now, even when he knows that Razer is taken, he persists. It would better for both of them if the Greek let go. For her: she could finally focus on trying to communicate to Jin beneath that thick sheen of dark corruption coating his being. Whereas Hwoarang, on the other hand, wouldn't have to put up with having his heart ripped from his chest and getting it stamped on every time Razer said 'I'm only ever going to be...your best friend.'

After a minute of awkward and painful silence, Razer bit her trembling lip and turned to the patient-yet-slightly-anxious Miyako who stood next to her, waiting for an answer, foreseeing it to be a negative. Athane broke the silence and...nodded...smiling. "That's fine, Miyako."

The brunette woman grinned and bowed to the Greek. "Thank you, Miss. Athane." With that, she walked off. Shutting the door of the kitchen, she leaned against the wall, a large smiled playing over her lips. She squealed with delight and ran off to her living quarters, the days work done.

Razer had forgotten about the headache, sitting down again, she let out a big breath, feeling a vibration on her upper thigh. She pulled her phone out of her pocket out with difficulty. It was so hard to pull something out of your pocket when you're sat down. She flipped the screen up and bit her lip again. _One new message from Hwoarang._

Opening it, she hesitated, believing that it would only cause her more pain. But to her surprise, it didn't. In fact, she smiled.

_I'm sorry x_


	8. Chapter 7

_**Chapter Eight: Simple Similarities**_

Hwoarang yawned and scratched his head, cursing when the person at the front door didn't cease ringing the doorbell. Whoever it was who'd disturbed his sleep was gonna have a face full of it. Opening it, he banished those thoughts from his mind when his eyes fell upon his best friend, stood with her hands behind her back. Razer walked through the threshold as Hwoarang shut the door, noticing that she had tears in her eyes, he automatically hugged her. She buried her face in his chest as the tears fell, her choking sobs muffled by the cotton of Hwoarang's loose shirt. The Korean sighed and rested his chin on her head, stroking her hair. He knew what she had come here about. "I _am_ sorry. Seriously."

"You s-shouldn't be sorry," she sobbed, pulling back and rubbing her eyes. "I deserve to feel like this a-after all the shit I've given you r-recently."

The redhead half-smiled, "I know. But I can't help that, Raze." Athane swallowed, trying to rid her throat of that horrible lump she was getting awfully accustomed to. "I just want to clarify something to you, Razer. You'll always be my number one girl. And nothing - _nothing_ - will ever change that, do you hear me?" He kissed her forehead.

The Greek smiled and pushed her palms up against his chest. "You're an asshole for being so considerate."

Hwoarang rolled his eyes and tilted her chin up, brushing the tears off her cheeks. "It's called being a friend, Raze. Now come on, let's see that smile." Razer smiled at him. "Not that one. That cute little smile you do when I'm around." The Greek sighed and unconsciously smiled the way Hwoarang had described. "That's better. By the way, you just woke me up. I don't like being woken up so early," he grinned.

Razer chuckled. "It is one O' clock in the afternoon, Hwoarang. I don't call that early. Anyway, how come you're not in work? And where's Baek and Seong-Hada?"

"I dunno. They're probably off shopping like some sort of married couple. You know, it's the strangest thing, my boss called me last night and told me that I had the day off and that I was still gonna get payed for it. But, hey, I'm not complaining!" He made his way into the kitchen with Razer in tow, his hand reaching for the milk in the fridge, he stopped. "Hang on." He turned around to the woman behind him, his eyes narrowed. "If you thought I was going to be in work today, why'd you come here?"

Razer smirked and shook her head, hands in the air. "Guilty as charged."

"What, you mean, _you _got me off work?" Hwoarang was incredulous.

"Being with the most powerful man in the world has its perks."

Hwoarang pulled the Greek girl into a tight bear hug. "I _love _you!"

"Hwoa...can't...breathe."

"Shit, sorry." He put the girl down and put two slices of bread in the toaster. "So, uh, why _are _you here? Wouldn't Jin kill you if he found out that you were with me?" He cast a side glance to her as he poured a glass of milk, expecting her to shout, 'Holy shit, you're right! I'd better go!' But to his shock, she scoffed.

"I don't care if he finds out. He can't stop me from visiting my best friend."

Hwoarang smiled. "And, with me dating Miyako, I have an excuse to visit you more often!"

Razer felt a decline in energy when Hwoarang said the word 'dating'. But she quickly perked back up again, but not entirely convincing herself that she was okay with the whole Miyako thing. She crossed her arms, "Oh, goodie," she muttered sarcastically.

"That hurt," the Korean pouted.

She grinned. "You'll get over it." She frowned, turning serious. "I came here to see if you wanted to do something this afternoon. I was so bored back at the mansion and I couldn't stand being-" Razer bit her lip. "So, um, yeah, do you want to?"

Taking a bite of toast, Hwoarang gave her a thumbs up. "Great! But I just need to get ready and all that shit."

"Well I was hoping that you weren't going to go out in _those,_" Razer snickered, gesturing to the shirt and grey joggers that the Blood Talon was wearing. "I'm sorry. But if you did, then I'd have to walk on the other side of the street."

"Hey, what's wrong with them?" Hwoarang asked, offended, pulling at his shirt. "This was expensive!"

"Well, for one, joggers are the hardest clothing to hide your boner in."

Hwoarang raised an eyebrow. "Why the hell would I randomly get a boner in the street?"

"Well, you _are _Hwoarang."

The redhead chuckled and wiped his hands free of crumbs. "Hey, that's a point, how could I not get a boner around _you_?" he whispered, licking his lips. "Ow!"

Razer retracted her hand, inspecting the big red mark on the Koreans cheek. "That's how."

* * *

The hushed whispers surrounding them were grinding on Razer's nerves. Her hands clenched in her pockets and she kept her head down. Apparently, word of her relationship with Jin had already hit the streets. Hwoarang had noticed the people's stares and mutters, and narrowed his eyes at anyone who got close.

"Isn't that Razer Athane?" A girl murmured to her school friends.

Hwoarang clenched his teeth, hearing the audible sigh that the Greek next to him exhaled. She had heard them too.

"Yeah, I think so. Is that her boyfriend?" the brunette female in the trio whispered.

"No, it can't be! She's with that Jin Kazama guy. You know, the one off the news," the third youngster said, "She must be mental for wanting to be with him."

Hwoarang snapped. He turned on his heel, hands in his pockets, he strode over to them, smirking when he saw the anxious look on their stupid little faces. Razer stopped and stared at him, unmoving, teeth digging into the soft flesh of her cheek. Hwoarang stopped in front of them, towering over them; a symbol of dominance. "If I were you, _ladies,_" He leaned in, grinning when the girls recoiled backwards, "I'd be careful about what you say. Bad shit happens if you bitch about people who are more powerful than you."

He stepped back and twisted his foot, reflecting the bright sunlight in his spur. It shined in the girls' faces and they blinked. Hwoarang shook his head, sighing. "Really bad shit."

He was threatening them. Razer noticed this and quickly stepped up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Hwoarang, calm down. It's just childish whispers. I am not taking any notice." Hwoarang had to literally bite a chunk out of his cheek to refrain from kicking those kid's asses. He felt Razer tug at his arm and he complied, turning and walking off, trying his best to ignore the people's hushed, critical voices. They didn't know..._anything _that was happening in the world. Going about their lives like everything was okay. Hwoarang inwardly sighed.

The twosome reached a cafe and since both were quite thirsty, sat down for a drink. When the drinks came, Razer rested her elbows on the table, staring straight at her best friend. "What was that all about?"

Hwoarang took a sip of his coffee. "Huh?"

"Don't play a fool in my face, Hwoarang." Razer leaned back in her chair. "You totally overreacted when those girls were whispering about me."

"Can you blame me?" Hwoarang narrowed his eyes. "You expect me to sit back and let people say stuff about you?"

"I'm twenty-one years old, Hwoarang. I do not need you to fight my battles for me." Her gaze flickered to his when she heard him sigh. "I thank you for it. But I can look after myself." Their voices were inadvertently raised. They were creating a scene; people were staring.

The Korean snapped. He grabbed Razer's arm, and much to the latter's protests, he yanked the material of her long black-sleeved shirt up to the crook of her arm, exposing many bruises. Most of them looked recently inflicted. "You think you can look after yourself? Jin's been hitting you and what have you done to retaliate?"

The Greek didn't say anything, trying to yank her arm free of the redhead's strong grip. She failed.

"Nothing! You've done nothing!" Hwoarang let go of her arm. "Girl, you're a fucking black belt in Tae Kwon Do for fucks sake!" He narrowed his eyes once more. "Do you know what I think, Raze? I think you're scared. You think that because you had the Devil Gene, everyone else with it must be evil too!"

Razer stood up abruptly, causing her chair to fall backwards. "You have no idea what living with the Devil Gene was like!"

Hwoarang blinked, surprised by the Greek's outburst. But he had to admit, he had a feeling that she'd get pissed by his words. "You will _never _know what it was like, Hwoarang. You will never have to cope with the voices. The memories you have to revisit. Memories that...that could have torn you from the inside out if they wanted to."

"Razer, I-"

The Greek inhaled sharply, clenching her fists. "You will never have to watch your own boyfriend being _controlled _by that _thing_...like a puppet...having to bow to the puppet master's every whim." She looked up at him through narrowed eyes. "I wanted to hurt, Hwoarang. I wanted _something _to help me cope with the pain. Trying to abate the creature within only made it angrier and more determined to make my life _hell_."

There was something in Razer's eyes. They were clouded over with so much emotion that Hwoarang thought that his heart would wretch. It frightened him. "Stop it now!"

Silence glided over the cafe as the two best friends stood before each other, tears in each others eyes, both waiting for the other to move or speak. Razer started first. "I...I am so sorry, Hwoarang. I don't know what came over me."

His hand came up to his heart and he blinked the tears from his eyes. "You don't think I understand what it was like? Seeing you like that? I was the one who comforted you when Jin broke up with you. I was the one who woke you up from your nightmares when we were kids." Hwoarang turned away slightly. "I was the one who gave his _life _for you, Raze."

Razer said nothing. She bit her lip and looked away.

Hwoarang turned back to her. "What do I get in return? I get a big fat 'n-o'."

_No?_

**_/ 'No' being that you went to Jin instead of him. /_**

Razer sniffed. "But, you and Miyako..."

"I'm anchored to you like some kind of fucking ship, Raze. Iron chains cannot be cut through easily. Miyako is made of copper. You're made of steel."

She understood what he was saying. In order to love someone else, Hwoarang had to know for certain that Razer was happy for him to do so. "I love you so much, Hwoarang. You know that. But..."

Hwoarang sniffed. "But what?"

"...But...I...just don't know why the hell you love _me_! I have only ever caused you trouble and worry! Nothing good has ever come out of me when around you! I just don't want you hanging on when we both know that you'd be better off by...letting go."

Hwoarang stepped around the table, noticing that everybody around them was watching as if it were a soap opera or something. He didn't give a shit about them. It was just him and Razer.

He put a hand on her shoulder, smiling the best he could through the tears. "No matter how hard I would try, letting go would be an impossible feat."


	9. Chapter 8

Author's Note: I'm sorry it's not very long but I needed a good conversation between Razer and Jin about the Seventh Tourney. I'm gonna add a disclaimer for safe measures. Even though you probably know who Razer is anyway, I just wanna be safe :)

Disclaimer: I don't own any people except Sayu. Razer, Seong-Hada and Miyako belong to Razer Athane. All other characters belong to Namco.

* * *

**_Chapter Nine: Blossom_**

Razer itched her palms as she slowly made her way to the door at the end of the long grand hallway: Jin's study. The Japanese youth had asked her to visit him for an important meeting dubbed 'paramount.' It was quite ironic and ridiculous that Razer had to get permission to see her own boyfriend in her own home. But she would rather that than walk in without leave for being there.

_Why do I feel like I am volunteering to walk into the lion's den? _

Nearing the large mahogany door, her mind was teeming with plausible incentives for Jin wanting to see her. Biting her lip, Razer lightly knocked the door, feeling so nervous that she actually heard the ghostly echo of her knuckles reverberating against the varnished wood. There was the sound of someone clearing their throat, followed by a powerful - and very intimidating - male voice. "Enter."

Razer ignored the frantic muttering and hisses in the back of her mind, and she entered the study. She didn't expect what Kazama was about to inform her of would be a _good _thing, not to her anyway. It seemed that bereavement, destruction and dominion were like wedding bells to atypical 'people' like Jin; whereas those three words just uttered despair to any other common individual. Jin may have been angry that Razer had not returned home at the time he had permitted when she visited the mall with Hwoarang just a few days before.

But then again, this Jin wasn't the _real _Jin, if that made any sense. If it were, he would have had no problem with her coming back later than he'd said; but anyway, Razer wouldn't have needed permission to go out with her best friend if Jin were in control of his own body. Razer had to do something to get the true Jin Kazama back...but she would need Hwoarang's help to do it.

The Greek sat down in the chair opposite where Jin was positioned behind his desk, she cleared her throat, ceasing all fidgeting so to not seem nervous. "You wanted to see me, Jin?" she asked.

Kazama nodded and leaned forward in his desk chair, handing a sheet of paper to Razer. "I insist that you read this."

Razer read the document with, to be honest, little interest. What could be so important or confidential that Jin couldn't just _tell _her what he wanted her to know? Soon enough, she contradicted herself. Looking up to Jin with wide eyes, she opened her mouth to ask the male if what the print on the paper was true. "Is this-"

"True? Yes," Jin replied monotonously. "Kazuya Mishima will be competing at The King of Iron Fist Tournament Seven."

Athane felt her heart stop beating, the blood freezing in her veins; her mind being consumed with trepidation. It would not have alarmed her as much as it had if Kazuya were not the being that Razer feared more than anyone or anything else. She feared him more than the Devil; but that was quite a controversial statement, as Kazuya _was _the Devil.

Having gathered the muscles needed to form speech, Razer asked the question she was so keen to ask. "Can you not ban him from entering? Surely you have the power to do so?"

_/ She is falling right into my trap. Such an incomprehensible excuse for a being. Insect. Having to be so conversational like this with her is not in the slightest bit amusing. / _

Jin shook his head. "I may have the power to do so, but I do not have the authority. Even I cannot decline people with useless will power who want to get themselves killed. But when I look at it that way, why would I want to disable such glorious chaos?"

Razer furrowed her eyebrows. "You get pleasure from chaos?"

"Of course," Jin answered, sounding almost offended. "Chaos is the only interesting past time in this world. Earth would be so dull and unvaried if there were no conflict within it, would you not agree?"

"Planet Earth is _suffering _because of all of this chaos, Jin. Why can you not understand that peace and equality are what make the world revolve and thrive? Makes it turn? Children are being born every day and they have to open their eyes to this...this war zone!"

As soon as she finished that sentence, Jin was across the table, his eyes narrowed as his hand grew ever tighter around the woman's neck. She coughed, pressing her nail into his wrist to find a pressure point but failed. Her arm fell limply to her side, a whimper escaping her lips. "Earth is my utopia. The people inhabiting it will soon bow at my feet, begging to be allowed into my new world. Soon, you and your friends will do such an act." He let go of Razer's throat and the latter massaged it, getting to her feet. "Now get out of my sight. I have said all that I wanted to."

Razer sighed. _Do not worry, Jin. I will save you from your prison. I promise it._

As she walked to the door, Jin snarled. "And do not call me Jin. I am not...your Jin. He is forever wrapped in the arms of pure darkness within this temporary body I possess." As the door shut, he stood and walked to the window, staring at the Tekken Force soldiers guarding the main gate to the mansion, looking like ants from where he was stood. "Soon, I will be rid of this pathetic excuse for a body and awaken in my true form." He put his hand to the window, smirking as the glass surrounding his palm was engraved with scorch marks. Fatal Lightning was not to be taken lightly.

"Those underlings are merely pawn in my game of Chess that determines their survival."

Jin stepped back from the window and turned back to his desk. With a flick of his wrist, a glass holding water toppled off his desk and smashed on the ground. _Like the shattered remains of this beaker, the world shall crumble under my iron rule and in doing so, a new world will be born. _

Jin smirked darkly, pupils flecked and sparking with a colour like liquid mercury. "Check mate."

* * *

"I'm sorry, Razer. Hwoarang doesn't want to see anyone right now," Baek said, sitting down opposite the Greek in the living room of the Dojang.

"Is he okay? Is he sick?" she asked, resting her hands on her knees.

"No, he's not sick. I think it's just one of those days where he's annoyed at everyone," the elder Korean chuckled.

Seong-Hada came into the room with an empty milk bottle. "Hey, Baek, we're out of-" He stopped in his tracks. "Razer!"

"Hey, SH," Razer smiled. She was greeted with a hug from the blue-haired Korean and even she was a little surprised. She laughed quietly. "Why so friendly?"

"Well, I haven't seen you for ages! I've missed you! It's annoying being with Hwoarang all day, every day. Rude jokes and dirty comments can get pretty irritating," he grinned, standing up and walking back into the kitchen. "Sorry, I'm making dinner."

Razer chuckled. Seong-Hada had a passion for cooking and she had an image of the Korean being the mother figure in the Dojang. Baek, the father. Seong-Hada, the mother; and Hwoarang, the testosterone-fueled dork-child. She turned back to Baek. "Can I go and see Hwoarang, please?"

Baek smiled. "You don't have to ask but I warn you, he sounded ticked off last time I checked."

"I will get by." Razer stood up and walked up the stairs, scanning every door in the corridor to find Hwoarang's. She found it easily, as there was a poster of some model in a bikini that barely covered her body. She rolled her eyes and grinned, knocking the door.

"Who is it?" a gruff voice asked.

"It's Razer. Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

The Greek opened the door and stepped into the half-tidy room, shutting the door and sitting on the edge of the Korean's bed. The redhead was sprawled on the duvet with his MP3 on full blast but one headphone was left out of his ear in case anyone knocked on his door. He looked up at his best friend with bored eyes. "What is the problem, Hwoa?"

"Nothing."

"If it was nothing, then why would you be led up here feeling like shit?" When there was no reply, she smirked. "Why don't we go out and watch a film or something? Just us two?"

Hwoarang turned his gaze to the window, staring out of it aimlessly. "Sorry. I don't feel like it."

Razer sighed and led down next to him, patting his stomach. "I am going to lie here until you tell me what is wrong."

The Blood Talon smiled a little. "I'm not gonna tell you because then you can lie here for longer."

Athane chuckled and put the loose bud in her ear, wondering what music the upset redhead was listening to. "When did you get into Five Finger Death Punch?"

"Sayu gave me some of their CD's to listen to. My favourite song in 'Hard To See' closely followed by 'The Bleeding'," Hwoarang murmured, his eyes closed.

"I see." The Greek's own eyes began to droop.

"What did you want to ask me anyway?"

"I like how you predict that I wanted to ask you something. It does not matter at the moment, anyway."

"Razer, can I ask you something?" the Korean asked.

"Hmmm."

"If you'd never met Jin, do you think we'd be together?"

Razer sighed. Why did he always have to make her look like the villain? "It all depends, really."

"I guess. But I think that we'd make a great coup...couple..." He drifted off.

"Maybe so." Soon after, Razer did too.

After about ten minutes, Seong-Hada opened Hwoarang's door. "Hey, guys. Dinner's ready."

Seong-Hada smiled. Razer and Hwoarang were led on the redhead's bed, his arm wrapped around the Greek's stomach, the woman's head nestled into the crook of the Blood Talon's neck, a small smile on her lips. They looked so peaceful and contempt lying there in each others arms, you'd almost think that they didn't have a care in the world.

And they didn't. All hell could have been breaking loose around them but even that would not have breached the comfortable slumber that the two best friends had slipped into. Seong-Hada smirked and shut the door, going back down to the kitchen to tell Baek that they were having an 'important conversation'.

Unconsciously, Razer's hand came up and enclosed the rocket pendant that hung loosely from Hwoarang's neck.


	10. Chapter 9

Author's Note: I've been allowed to write again as long as I balance my revision schedule out. Rave! Rave! Rave! This chapter may be a little confusing. Don't worry, even I'm confused; and I wrote it! XD And, no, Seong-Hada does not have a crush on Miyako. I worded it like that but...well, just read it! Oh, and please don't laugh at the nickname Xiao gives him XD

Disclaimer: I don't own any people except Sayu. Razer, Seong-Hada and Miyako belong to Razer Athane. Hwoarang and all other characters belong to Namco.

* * *

**_Chapter Ten: Doldrums_**

It was now the beginning of March. Hwoarang was standing on the porch watching a dog run back and forth across the road. Crazy fucking dog. Chasing something it couldn't see. Eventually it paused right there in the middle of the road and started barking, eventually vanishing when a car appeared around the corner. Hwoarang turned and walked back into the Dojang.

Seong-Hada was upstairs, sleeping off whatever he had eaten the night before while Baek was out buying some new equipment for training the black belts. Miyako had gone early, a little after six, saying she'd be back before the middle of the day. Hwoarang couldn't have cared less whether he saw her again. If he were perfectly honest, her enthusiasm was starting to grate on him. He sat in the kitchen for a while. The house was silent. He drank some coffee, closed his eyes and remembered times he had sat there before. Times when things had been simpler, less complicated, when his life hadn't been torn apart by the never-ending string of grief that his best friend had suffered; which had obviosly affected him as well. Times when things, quite ironically, seemed to make some kind of sense.

Reality challenged him - a twenty-three year old man. He felt an injustice had been perpetrated, and though he cared for Miyako perhaps more than any other Japanese person alive, he was concerned that he hadn't considered the effect his relationships with other women have had upon him and most importantly, Razer. Hwoarang was sick of Miyako, already. They'd only been going out for three months.

He wanted to feel nothing about it. He wanted it to be of no consequence at all. He still had a wonderful family, great friends - what could be better? Hwoarang wanted to be strong, independent and uninfluenced by anything Jin said or did; especially when it was through Razer. But he was not. He knew that. Perhaps that was the real source of his irritation.

Seong-Hada came down a little later; he said nothing, knowing that Hwoarang was in his rare 'thinking mode'. Maybe, if Hwoarang's girlfriend felt the same way about another man the way she felt about him, then she would be gone in a month, perhaps less. Seriously, she only stayed with him for the envy her friends felt when he was with her. Hwoarang hoped that would be the case.

Seong-Hada asked him whether he was bothered by her. "Bothered?" Hwoarang asked, feigning surprise at his question.

"Yeah, Hwoarang. You know, bothered that she's obviously into me," he teased, laughing as he dodged a pillow that was thrown in his direction.

The Korean smiled and shook his head. "Shut the fuck up, SH. You may be close friends but that don't mean that she's yours to fuck," he replied, and in his tone was the intended information that he knew something about her that his blue-haired friend didn't. Something that perhaps he wouldn't like. The purpose of what Hwoarang said went over the younger Korean's head completely. He merely grunted an acknowledgement and poured some coffee.

"She's coming back a little later," Hwoarang commented. "Gonna give me the 'best birthday present ever'," he said, using his fingers as quotation marks.

"Gosh, yeah, it's your birthday," he replied. "I'd completely forgotten."

"So you didn't get me a gift?" Hwoarang feigned hurt.

He smiled. "Sure, I spent about the same amount of money on you as you did on me, arsehole."

Miyako burst through the door in a whirlwind of noise and laughter. She came in through the front door carrying a shopping bag from 'Hot Topic'. Obviously, she had bought Hwoarang something to do with music. And as she called for Seong-Hada from the front door Hwoarang realized that she was advertising his presence. Seong-Hada went without thinking, an automatic response, and even as they returned, even as Hwoarang warned them to be less public, the only reaction he got was a casual lack of concern.

"Hell Hwoarang, take it easy," Miyako told him. She reached out and touched his face, and for a second she looked at him; looked at him just like she did when they were on their first date at the beach. And then nothing. Holding her attention was like trying to hold a ring of smoke.

Hwoarang wasn't hungry; _fuck food right now_, he thought. He went upstairs and lay on his bed. He could hear the indistinct murmur of their voices downstairs. His phone vibrated and he flipped the screen up. '_One new message from Razer.' _Hwoarang smiled, clicking 'read'. This was the one woman he could hold the attention of.

_Happy birthday, trouble :) x_

The redhead chuckled, texting back. _Thanks :) Any chance that you can come over? x_

_Sorry, Hwoa. Jin has a meeting about the Tournament roster and has ordered me to accompany him. _

Hwoarang sighed. _It's okay, dw. _

_But I can come over tomorrow with your gift :) _

_Is it a blow job...? ;)_

_-.- g2g now. See you 2morrow x_

_Yeah, bye x_

Hwoarang put his phone on his bedside table, turned onto his back and closed his eyes. He thought of happier times when he was with Razer, and for the first time in days, months...he really missed those times. _Really._

"Happy birthday, Hwoarang," he muttered.

* * *

It was a few days before University started; the summer holidays would end and Xiaoyu was sat in her room, staring blankly at a piece of paper - a piece of paper that should have had 2,000 words about Osmosis written on it. But Xiaoyu had been procrastinating the essay all Summer, saying _"I'll do it soon"_ and _"Tonight for definite, I promise, Grandpa"_ until she soon realised that school was just a few days away and she hadn't done an ounce of the set homework. Miharu poked her head around the door of her best friend's room, clearing her throat, she smirked. "Need any help?"

Xiaoyu rejoiced as if the Angels had called. "Yes, _please_!"

The auburn-haired girl chuckled and walked into Xiaoyu's bedroom, she sat on the bed and took the question paper from the Chinese girl's grip. _"To date, there have been an increasing number of sludge worms dying and decaying in the riverbanks off the coast of South Wales. Explain, in terms of Osmosis and Diffusion, why this is occurring. Remember to include what Osmosis is and why it affects aquatic organisms specifically." _

"See what I mean?" Xiao said despondently, twiddling her pen in her hands. "Where the heck is South Wales, anyway?"

Miharu smiled and shook her head. "Ling, you make it look harder than it actually is. The reason that sludge worms are decreasing is because the water is too highly concentrated for them to survive in. They can't take in the water to respire and so, they die and decay in the muddy riverbanks."

Xiaoyu stared at her friend like she had a second head. "How do you know that? You flunked your exams!"

"Biology was my strong point in school."

"Your only strong point?"

"Shut up."

Xiaoyu grinned. "But I don't see the point in this essay. I mean, I don't live in South Wales so I don't know about the life of a sludge worm."

"You don't?" Miharu asked, surprised. "But you _are_ a worm covered in sludge."

"Oh, get lost!" Xiaoyu hissed, smirking and punching her friend in the shoulder lightly. "Thanks for the help, Mi. I'll write this essay in no time."

"...You're just gonna get the answer off Wikipedia, aren't you?"

"...Yeah."

"Smooth."

As Miharu left, Xiaoyu huffed and flipped the screen of her phone up. _You have no new messages. _She sighed, tossing her phone onto her bed. No matter what she did, she just couldn't get Seong-Hada out of her mind. Xiaoyu was wondering whether he would be going to the seventh Iron Fist Tournament, as she'd seen a poster for it in the mall on the weekend before. Was Razer competing? Was Hwoarang? Jin surely was, she had no question about that.

But sadly, Xiaoyu wouldn't be. She had been accepted into University and, sadly and coincidently, her new term would start on the same day that the tournament would start. With a sigh, Xiaoyu gave up on the essay for now and picked her phone up, dialling the familiar numbers to talk to her friend.

It took a few rings for the Korean to pick up. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Xiaoyu."

There was a smile in Seong-Hada's voice. "Oh, hi! I haven't spoken to you in a while! How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks, buddy. I was just going to ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"Are you going to the Seventh Tournament?"

There was a pause. "I didn't know there was a seventh one?"

"Well there is. Will you be going?"

"I might do if Hwoa is going. Would you be going?"

The Chinese girl sighed. "I can't."

Silence. "...Oh...Why not?"

"I'm going to University when it begins. I'm sorry, Parky."

A sigh. Then there was the sound of a throat being cleared. "That's alright. Hey, you can't help it, can you?" Silence befell them once more. "...Is that it?"

Xiaoyu felt her mouth turn down in a sad frown. "Yeah, basically."

"Okay. I have to go now, Xiao. See you." Seong-Hada hung up.

Sniffing, the girl also hung up and threw her phone on the bed, running a hand through her pig-tail. "Bye, Seong-Hada."

* * *

A/N: I promise that the action will begin soon, my friends. Pinky promise :)


	11. Chapter 10

Author's Note: Hi :)

The first apparition's speech is indicated _**like this.**_

The second apparition's speech is indicated **_lik__e this._**

Disclaimer: I don't own any people except Sayu. Razer, Seong-Hada and Miyako belong to Razer Athane. Hwoarang and all other characters belong to Namco.

* * *

**_Chapter Eleven: Alone But Never Alone_**

_The landscape wasn't what I expected. There were no people, no cars, nothing. All that stood there were piles of disgarded metal and stone, probably from an old building of some sort, maybe a church? The sky overhead was thick with clouds, and what confused me the most was the fact that they weren't their usual fluffy, white way. They were coloured in with browns, oranges and dark reds. Where was everybody? _

_I looked around but found nothing except for what had greeted me before. Nothing. "Razer? Seong-Hada? Sayu? Can anybody hear me?" I walked forward, unsure of where I was actually going. But any way I went, I was bound to arrive somewhere, so forward was where I was gonna go. "Where the hell is everybody?"_

_**"It's just you and me now..." **_

_I turned to the source of the voice, well, tried to. It seemed to be coming from every direction. "Very funny..." I muttered. "Who are you?"_

_My question was answered when there was an almighty explosion off to my right, and the shockwaves that leapt forth from it actually knocked me over. I growled and got back onto my feet, brushing off my jeans. From the flames that engulfed the land before me, a figure appeared. It was about six foot high, but definitely human, and from where I was stood it looked kinda like that fat guy from the fifth and sixth tournaments, Ganryu._

_The familiar being smirked, then there was the sound of ripping flesh as two deep purple wings emerged from his back, and without a word, he leapt into the air. I had to admit, I was terrified. I'd been up against this guy in previous tournaments, but never when he had actually mutated into a Devil, not even partly. I didn't think he even had the Devil Gene. I backed up against one of the walls of rubble as Ganryu came closer and closer every second, his fist coming straight at me, enveloped in a deep purple haze._

_At the very last moment, I snapped out of my terror and dodged the deadly limb, falling to the ground once again with the aftershock of the impact. This guy wasn't thin but that didn't shun the power in his fighting. Ganryu growled and pulled his fist out of the rubble, clenching and unclenching it. I looked up at him with wide eyes. "Hey, what's your beat with me?"_

_Ganryu turned slightly. **"You invaded my space." **He walked closer to me. **"I don't have any friends. Just like you."**_

_"What?"_

_**"I enjoy being alone. You actually think you've got friends."**_

_I stepped back as he neared my trembling body. "You don't even know me!"_

_**"I know you better than you know yourself, Hwoarang."**_

_"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to evade him, only to be followed again._

_**"One of your so-called friends sent you here. They wanted to get rid of you!"**_

_I gasped. Could I trust this guy? None of my friends would ever do something like that to me, would they? Razer? She wouldn't do that to me. I know she wouldn't. Seong-Hada? I know he likes Miyako but...would he do that just to get to her? Sayu? Well, he probably would. I found myself standing still, my hands slowly curling into fists, my eyes darting around the place to find some sign to remind me that I was still sane. I found nothing._

_**"Looks like Seong-Hada's going to get his turn with Miyako, after all. You're conceded and selfish. No one wants you around, Hwoarang. That's why they sent you here." **I lifted my head upwards and saw that Ganryu was stood right in front of me, watching me, interrogating me. **"You know it's true, don't you? Why try and hide it? Why don't you let me put you out of your misery?"** _

_I growled and narrowed my eyes, getting into my stance. "You're a fucking liar! My friends have never felt that way! You're the one who's miserable!"_ _I aimed a set of machine gun kicks at his abdomen, smirking as they all hit in quick succession, then I conjured Sky Rocket. Ganryu soared into the air, vunerable for a juggle combo. I jabbed him with my left fist, then my right, quickly followed by a left roundhouse. They all hit and the apparition slammed into the dust, groaning, getting up faster than I'd hoped or anticipated. He got over it just as quickly. Shit._

**_"You're just a waste of space to everybody!" _**_Ganryu ran at me, wings folded behind his back, and I locked hands with him, trying to push him away. We were at equal strength in this fight so neither of us were actually going anywhere. **"You're only kidding yourself, little man. You're all by yourself here!"**_

_I gritted my teeth and turned my gaze down to floor as I tried with all my might to repel him, my eyes closing tightly due to the strain. "I'm gettin' really tired of you!" I yelled, managing to force all my strength into the shove that flew Ganryu back and leaving him vunerable, giving me the oppertunity to inflict some real damage on him. I slipped into Motion Switch then spun on my heel, knocking him away at least ten feet. Oh, how I loved Backlash..._

_But just as I started celebrating, Ganryu was up and running towards me, and before I could counter attack or dodge him, he'd headbutted me right in the solar plexus. I stumbled back, groaning and clutching my stomach. I could taste something foreign in my mouth and I spat on the floor. My saliva was tinged with red. He'd crossed the line. "Nobody makes me bleed my own blood," I hissed._

**_"I'm just getting started! But I'll take care of that for you..." _**_Ganryu ducked down, hitting the ground with a fist, head tucked in low before charging at me, and this time I didn't react, and he hit me. Fuck, he hit me good. I was on the ground clutching my stomach again, which felt like someone had fucking hacked it to pieces with a rusty breadknife. **"You can't win, you know I'm right! You can't fight! Just surrender now and it'll be all over." **He stomped down on my stomach again and again, earning a howl of pain from me with every powerful impact. **"Later, lonely boy!" **_

_'It's all over...' I thought, tears in my eyes. How was I so weak? Why was I so powerless? I would never give up if Razer were in my position. I wouldn't give up on anybody. The world was suffering too much already to let anybody else die...I was gonna lose unless I moved out of the. Fucking. Way! _

_I tried with all my might and rolled out of the way, his foot narrowly missing my head by mere inches. Ganryu growled. I stood up with difficulty, my legs trembling, I feebly got into my stance. "I may have some issues but I think I know who my friends are. And you're not one of 'em!" I grabbed his arm and pushed my leg up to his neck, continuing to push until I heard a sickening crack. I grinned. _

_As Ganryu began to stand back up, I executed Hunting Hawk and gathered all my strength for the next hit. As he fell to the floor, I lifted my leg up as high as it could go and with a spirit shout, sent it slamming into the back of his head, a scream coming forth from his mouth that was so inhumane; it sent a shiver down my aching spine. _

_**"I tried to warn you. Now you have to live the realisation that you're all alone, Hwoarang!"** He fell silent, disapparating into nothing thereafter. _

_I fell to my knees, panting loudly and thickly. If I had known that the fight was going to be so draining, I would've high-tailed it outta there, which was very rare for me. I loved a good fight. Suddenly, haunting images filled my head. _

_Razer was stood before me, her expression bared no emotion - but as I looked closer, I saw the slightest smirk on her features. Her eyes weren't their normal forest green, either; they were black, hollow...empty. She raised her hand, palm facing me, and walked forwards, and that was when I noticed that Seong-Hada was stood beside her, as was Sayu, both mimicking her actions - eyes unlit and lifeless. They were trying to push me away. They were trying to get rid of me._

_"No!" I shouted, standing up, refusing to believe such bullshit. "He was lying. He had to be! My friends would never just abandon me like that. Would they?"_

**_Hmph, I don't know. Would they?_**

_I turned to my left. "Huh? Who said that?"_

**_Oh, I think they would._**

_"Uh..wh-what?"_

**_Unless they're real friends. But you've never had any of _those_, have you?_**

_I groaned. "Oh, man. I'm losing it."_

**_Perhaps. But think back for a moment. Remember your classmates at school?_**

_I gasped. I didn't wanna go back there. Never. I've changed. I've broken free of the chains that held me in place in the prison of withdrawel...Wow, that was pretty smart coming from my mouth. I had two friends back in school. Well, I called them my friends. I think they were only a cover to hide my grief. I think they were scared of me, really. Maybe that's why I never saw them again after the...Dojang burnt down. Well, I saw them once after, but never again._

**_I pity those sad twins. You didn't want anybody to like you, because you thought that they would leave you, just like your parents did. You shut the world away, Hwoarang. You shut everybody who cared for you away. Baek, Razer, even you're only childhood friends!_**

_I whirled around in every possible direction there was, trying to face the body that the voice eminated from, but found nobody. "Shut up..." The voice cackled and I looked up at the red sky, tears beginning to fill my eyes. "Shut up!"_

**_You have no real friends. Do you know why? Because you don't think you deserve them!_**

_Forever alone._

_I screamed out in agony. Not from the pain of my stomach, but from my heart. It was all true. "Leave...me...ALONE!" I bellowed, the tears finally spilling over, my legs nearly buckling underneath me, but I just about mananged to stabilise myself. Just about._

**_It's time to face reality, Red. You can't hide from you, anymore._**

_"I'm Hwoarang! Not Red!" I gulped, forcing the tears to stop. Now was not the time to cry. "Not anymore..."_

**_Ooh, that's a nice, strong hiding place..._**

_"Be quiet!" I yelled._

**_I think you're not very nice. And so do all your so-called friends. Behind that rough, redheaded armour is just a scared, lonely little boy._**

_"You don't know anything!"_

_**Razer, Seong-Hada, Sayu. They're laughing at you!** _

_I noticed a shadow cast against one of the stone walls. It was him. My fist connected with the rock, hissing through the pain, it broke into small pieces._

**_That hurt, ha-ha!_**

_"Show yourself, you coward!"_

**_Come on, Red. Who are you _really _fighting? _**

_The shadow drew up against another stone wall and once again, I smashed through it...again, doing no damage to it. __"Who are you?"_

**_Just the reflection of the real you, Hwoarang. I am your shadow. As long as you are alive, I exist!_**

_"This is just crazy!" I gasped._

_The earth beneath my feet began to convulse, and I stepped away, wondering how the hell all of this shit was actually happening. Hell, anything crazy can happen in my fucking world, can't it? My best friend was possessed by the Devil before, after all. One by one, huge stone totem poles began to emerge from the ground, one of them nearly knocking me to the ground. When I looked up, I noticed that on the top of three, Razer, Seong-Hada and Sayu were stood atop them. The pole with Razer on was the highest, ironically. I had to try my hardest to reach her, whereas reaching the other two was easier. But I wanted to reach her so, so badly. _

_I needed her. I need her to question my sanity. As long as she was there, I was in reality._

_I noticed that they were the ones I saw earlier, no emotion or no iris colour. I smashed the one holding Sayu down with all my force. But the shadow laughed at me again._ **_Missed me. Just like you missed your chance to have real friends!_**

_I knocked down another totem pole, the one that homed Seong-Hada. He had disappeared. "You're wrong!"_

_**Am I?**_

_I sighed. "I don't know anymore..." I looked up at the fake Razer. She stared down at me, a bang falling in front of her lifeless eyes. She smiled. I knocked it down. That wasn't _her _smile. __"Maybe he's right. Maybe I've been fooling myself this whole time. Living my life like some twisted nightmare." Razer. Seong-Hada. Is it possible that you guys are just part of my self-inflicted bad dream? I shot my head up to the sky. "Somebody please wake me up!"_

_The ground started to rumble again. "What now?" I sighed desperately. The land I was stood on slowly began to rise, me along with it. I didn't move this time. I didn't see any point. It would only lead to more pain. Soon, I was atop a giant arena that had stone steps encircling it, the land surrounding it now competely barren of anything. It was just me, the arena, the steps and the voice. "This can't be good..."_

_The voice laughed again, and this time, it took a form. My eyes widened. His features were dark, his body shrouded in shadow, his eyes inked with blood red. _

_He was me._

**_Hi, handsome,_**_ he grinned._

_"There you are," I growled. "Nice of you to show up."_

_**I've been here all the time. I've always been with you. I've never left your side.**_

_I stiffened. "You're wrong about me. Razer, Seong-Hada, Sayu all taught me how to be a real friend."_

**_But have you chosen to be? _**_Dark Hwoarang clicked his fingers and with that meagre action, stone podiums dotted the stone steps and then, morphed into the shapes of my friends. They were shouting things. Mean things. Cruel things._

_The Razer clones were shouting, "I have never liked you and I never will!" _

_The Seong-Hada clones were yelling, "You're just a big bully and a coward!"_

_The Sayu clones were chanting, "You're busted! Your game's over!"_

_My mind was shouting, 'You're all alone!'_

_"Stop it..." My eyes closed tightly, forcing the sick images out of my mind. "Is this real? Or is this just a part of my bad dream?" As the clones screamed their never-ending hoarde of insults, I clenched my fists so hard that blood dripped onto the dusty stone beneath me. "That's enough! Let's settle this! You and me!" I shouted at my shadow, slipping into my stance._

**_Oh, _now _you want to fight. But I am you. Your past, your present and your future. What do you hope to gain?_**

_"My life back, for a start! I can defeat the old me and rebuild a new one!"_

**_Sounds like fun. Bring it on, tough guy!_**

_I snarled and ran at him, aiming to perform a Roll and Choke. But as I went to grab him, Dark Hwoarang parried me, kicking me in the head, throwing me across the arena, sending me slamming into a stone column. _

**_Sorry, Blood Talon, but that attack is useless on me. I'm your shadow, remember? Equal and opposite. Your attacks make me stronger. I can predict your every move. You cannot win! _**_Dark Hwoarang grinned, **And remember, if you destroy me, you destroy yourself!**_

_I stood up, wiping my nose with the back of my hand, I felt a moist sensation. I inspected my hand, which was streaked with blood. I hissed and ran forward. "I don't care! As long as you're fucking dead!"_

_The shadow smirked and tilted his head down, his red eyes still locked on me. I neared him, ready to attack, when he side-stepped and counter-attacked with Flying Eagle...which squared me right between the balls. I cried out and fell to my knees, clutching my groin. There was no greater pain than getting kicked in the nuts. No pain like it at all. _

**_That's a vunerable part of the male body. It proves a good trump card during battle._**

_I slowly got back to my feet, still holding my agonised groin, but it subsided soon after. "Let's see how you like it!" I went to kick him but he swiftly dodged it, like he were floating on air, then, without warning, he sent me smashing into another podium. That shit-eating grin was still plastered on his face, and what really pissed me off was the fact that _I _grinned like that. I hated my own attitude._

_I groaned as the dust collected in my lungs, racking me like a seizure, I swallowed precious oxygen as I stood once more, hearing the clones around me shouting "Show no mercy!" So...even my friends wanted me dead. As quickly as I'd stood up, I fell to my bloody knees just as quickly. My hair was streaked with blood, my shirt was caked with dirt and my jeans were ripped, as were my chaps. But my heart had taken the most damage._

_Dark Hwoarang walked towards me. **Do you hear them out there, Hwoarang? How could you have ever thought they were your **_**_friends? The truth hurts, doesn't it? _**_I collapsed on all fours, clutching my stomach, coughing up blood. **But don't worry, Hwoarang. I'll free you from your pain...Permanently.**_

_It was all over. I was gonna die. _

_He raised his hand, claws emerging from the tips of his fingers. **Any final thoughts?**_

_I cried. I cried tears of agony. Tears of anger. "I've got to do something...I know...it's not supposed to...end like this..."_

_**Stop it...** Dark Hwoarang hissed, claws shining brilliantly in the dim light._

_"I'm sorry, Razer..." I sobbed, closing my eyes. "I'm sorry that I have to leave you like this...leave you at the hands of that monster..."_

**_Enough..._**

_"I love you," I choked._

**_That's enough! _**_Dark __Hwoarang thrust his claws downward towards my skull. This was where it was going to end. _

_"I'M SORRY!"_

* * *

"I'm sorry!"

Hwoarang looked around in the darkness of his room, wiping the sweat from his face, he swallowed, feeling totally sick. That nightmare had brought some sense of realisation to the redhead; thinking that he had no friends. Razer wasn't his friend. Seong-Hada wasn't his friend, and neither was Sayu. Throwing back the covers, he threw open his bedroom door and trundled to the bathroom, as if in some kind of trance, he continuously kept bumping into the walls.

Grabbing a pair of scissors from the cabinet, Hwoarang stood in front of the mirror, his breath short and quick, eyes wide and bloodshot with angst and terror. Grabbing a lock of copper hair, he cut away the lock. It fell lazily to the floor.

_Snip. Snip. Snip._

Soon enough, half of Hwoarang's hair was scattered on the floor, his mane now short and wild like back in the military. He never liked that hairstyle but if that was what it took to change him, then he didn't give a shit about his looks. It was time to leave the old life of Hwoarang Doo San behind. Out of the ashes, a new man will be reborn.

This was to be his own undoing...

* * *

**A/N**: Updating quick, ain't I? Teehee...So, uh, how is it? I feel like there is something missing from this (by that I mean, the whole story) but I don't know what it is. Maybe a bit more about Baek? ROFL. And, as I wrote in the last author's note, **the tournament will begin in about two chapters**. More about angsty Hwo first though. Stick around! :)


	12. Chapter 11

Author's Note: I am so so so so _so_ sorry that this took so long to write! I had exams (they're finished now) and the revision and fanfic writing didn't really interlock into my regime...That's a shitty excuse, I know. But please forgive me :3 Oh, by the way, if you want to know what Hwoarang's new hairstyle looks like, then think of Gaara from Naruto.

Disclaimer: I don't own any people except Sayu. Razer, Seong-Hada and Miyako belong to Razer Athane. Hwoarang and all other characters belong to Namco.

* * *

**_Chapter Twelve - Oscillation_**

The front door woke Hwoarang up when Baek came home. The redhead could see that it was still quite dark in his room, with strips of the morning sun inching through the curtains - his digital clock read 7:30 am. Baek clumped up the stairs to check on him. "Still alive?"

"Sort of."

"Do you want anything?"

"No."

The Korean hesitated, clearly out of his element. "Okay, then," he said, and then he went back down to the kitchen. Hwoarang heard the phone ring a few minutes later. Baek spoke to someone in a low voice for a moment, and then hung up.

* * *

"Hwoarang?"

"..."

"Hwoa, come on. Open the door."

"...Go away," a low voice grumbled.

Baek sighed, defeated, turning to the anxious woman stood beside him, her forest green eyes filled with worry. "I'm sorry, Razer," the Korean apologised. "He's not responding."

"How long has he been like this?" the Greek asked, shoving her hands in her pockets as the twosome made their way back down into the living room.

"A few days. I don't think he's even eaten anything in that time," Baek frowned. "I'm worried about him, Razer. For the first time in ages, I'm seriously scared for him." The Korean sat down on the sofa, rubbing his tired eyes. Razer sat in the seat adjacent to her former master, noticing exactly how weathered the man looked. "I was thinking of participating alongside Hwoarang and Seong-Hada in the seventh tournament, but if Hwoarang is having second thoughts, I highly doubt that Seong-Hada would want to continue in the tournament, either. I know how much that boy is influenced by him."

The seventh tournament was beginning in eight days, and if Hwoarang didn't pull his act together and start vigorous training immediately, then his chances of winning, or even passing the preliminaries, were a million to one. Also, that would really put a downer on Seong-Hada. The younger Korean was, surprisingly, very excited about participating. His fighting was only ever expressed during training, and the blue-haired male really wanted to prove to everyone that he was worthy of being taught the art of Tae Kwon Do. It would definitely give him the confidence he needed to succeed.

"Do you think it is an endeavour?" Razer asked, placing her hands on her lap.

Baek looked to her, slightly confused. "Do I think what is an endeavour?"

"The tournament," Razer replied, itching her palms again. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "With every tournament that has passed, the participants have gotten more resiliant; the bosses more dangerous," she turned her eyes back to Baek. "What if Jin is the final boss?"

The Korean raised an eyebrow. "I thought you would have already known that information by now, Razer. Hwoarang told me that you had a meeting with Jin about the tournament a while ago. Didn't he tell you that?"

The Greek shook her head. "No. All I know is that Jin will be participating, but I don't know what he will be doing, or what he will try to achieve." Unconsciously, a shiver crawled up her spine, causing her to blink and fidget slightly in her seat. "Hmm," Razer mumbled, eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought. Having no logical answers for Baek's question, Razer changed the subject back to the redhead upstairs. "But why is Hwoarang like this? Have he and Sayu had a fight or something?"

"He won't tell me anything. All I know is that he's been really disturbed by something...or someone."

"Hwoarang? Disturbed by someone?" Razer joked, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere. "If anything, others are disturbed by him!" When Baek didn't respond with a chuckle or a smile, Razer sighed, falling back into the sofa. "He's becoming more and more like me when I was..." she trailed off, staring at the ground.

"When you were what?" Baek asked, intrigued.

Razer smiled and shook her head. "Never mind. So, where is Seong-Hada?"

"Here I am!"

The sound of a door shutting - more like slamming - echoed through the Dojang's halls as the blue-haired figure emerged, carrying two armfuls of shopping, sporting a grin on his face. Seriously, he was acting more and more like a mother everyday. Razer raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You heard me from way over there?"

"I have good hearing," Seong-Hada replied, setting the bags on the tabletop in the kitchen.

"More like big ears," Razer teased.

"I do _not_ have big ears!" the Korean snapped, lifting his hand to inspect the said appendage. Sticking his head around the corner of the door, he frowned. "They're not big and they're not small. Thanks, Raze! Now I'm gonna be self-conscious all the time!" he whined, poking his tongue out.

There was another door that slammed from upstairs. The beast had emerged, finally. Silence befell the Dojang as rushed, heavy footsteps ran down the stairs, carrying with them...Hwoarang. The young man looked totally different - his hair, in particular, which was short and not sported by the usual goggles - and his face bared distraction. What could have possiblly happened to make Hwoarang act this way? Without even sparing any of the people in the room a passing glance, he shrugged his jacket on and headed for the door, his bike keys clinking together in his loosely clenched fist.

Razer stood up, beginning to approach her best friend's retreating figure. "Hwoa-"

"Save your breath, Raze," Hwoarang _almost_ spat, slamming the door behind him.

The Greek stood there, shocked, staring at the front door as if it was going to burst into flames moments later. She hurried to the window and she watched him drive off on his Harley. Razer stared at the empty street when he was gone, feeling a little sick, but not for any physical reason. How much she wished that Hwoarang had been born her brother, her flesh-and-blood brother, so that she would have some legitimate claim on him that still left her free of any blame now - that blame being Hwoarang's growing jealousy. Heaven knows that Razer never wanted to use Hwoarang, but she couldn't help but interpret the guilt that she felt now to mean that she had. She was using him to hide from the reality of her own life, and that in itself was cowardice.

Even more, Razer had never meant to love Hwoarang. One thing she truly knew - knew it in the pit of her stomach, in the marrow of her bones, knew it from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet, knew it deep within her empty chest - was how love gave someone the power to break you.

Razer had been broken beyond repair.

But she needed Hwoarang now, needed him like a drug. She'd used him like a crutch for too long, and she was in deeper than she'd planned to go with anyone again, not even Jin. Now Razer couldn't bear for him to be hurt, and she couldn't keep from hurting him, either. Hwoarang thought time and patience would change her, and, though she knew that he was dead wrong, she also knew that she would let him try. He was her best friend. She would always love him, and it would never, ever be enough.

Razer went back to sit down on the sofa and bite her nails. Baek sighed and moved from his seat to the vacant one next to the jittery Greek, putting an arm around her shoulder, the latter leaned into the consoling hug. Seong-Hada shook his head at the redhead's attitude, going back to putting the shopping away. Razer closed her eyes. "Why's he acting like this, Baek?"

Baek sighed again. "He won't tell me. That's the most we have seen on him thi week, actually."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "But it's already Friday."

"Exactly my point. He must be under a lot of stress from work."

"Yeah..." Razer muttered, preoccupied. She glared at the wall and wondered why, exactly, Hwoarang was doing this. Why did she feel so...so suspicious, like she didn't believe Baek's story? But why would Baek lie? Razer was being silly, probably. She was just worried, like a best friend would be.

She'd give Hwoarang a week, she'd decided, before she got pushy. A week was generous.

* * *

High, mid, low.

Block, counter-attack, victory.

How the blood of another felled victim electirified Hwoarang...

To see it drip through his fingers, to flow between his knuckles in scarlet torrents, was enough of a reward to him.

Two months ago, Hwoarang would never have thought about hustling again. He didn't see the need for it back then, back when he _had_ something. But there was nothing for him now. As each kick would connect to his opponent, and if he were lucky enough to snap a bone or a tendon, was like a drop of anaesthetic injected straight into his raging veins. Every jaw-breaking punch would bring a dark smirk to Hwoarang's lips, his eyes empty and lifeless. One by one, Hwoarang would pick his opponents off like a check list. This was too easy. Hwoarang needed something more. He needed somebody worthwhile to unleash all of his pent-up rage on. He had a very clear idea of whom it would be, but to reach them without being arrested or even _killed_ seemed like a long shot. But then again, if he were killed, would it matter? Would anybody care?

_She would..._

Those two words sent Hwoarang's foot smashing into his opponent's gut, sending them flying backwards and rendering them unconscious. _'Don't think about her,'_ he hissed, closing his eyes tightly.

Out of nowhere, a rustling was heard as Hwoarang walked. He stopped, looking down, noticing a piece of paper stuck to the heel of his boot. Ripping it off, the headline caught his eye.

Examining the paper, it read: '_The King Of Iron Fist Tournament Seven - A Game Of Champions.'_

Intruiged, Hwoarang read on.

_On the 27th March, the seventh installment of a revolutionary competition will begin - The King Of Iron Fist Tournament Seven. Fighters of every origin congress and go head-to-head with various martial arts to be crowned the 'King Of Iron Fist,' run by none other than the prodigal world leader, Jin Kazama. The preliminaries will be-' _Hwoarang growled after he read that mans' name, refusing to read anymore. Looking around, Hwoarang stuffed the poster into his hoodie pocket, beginning to walk back to his bike which was parked over three blocks away.

A seventh tournament, hmm? Would Jin Kazama be the boss at the end?

Hwoarang smirked, licking his lips, tasting sweet revenge.

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it, my darlings!


	13. Chapter 12

A/N: It's been three years since I've updated this and I still don't have a plot in mind for it. One may come out of my butt in the near future because I plan to finish this. Does this still qualify as a continuing story? Although, I will admit I feel like a scoundrel for even updating this. I feel that fics for another person should be done quickly and to their best. Both of those boxes are unchecked for me...but I hope it's good enough. I feel like a shrew in comparison to other authors here. It's always been like that. Even more so now.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything minus Sayu. Seong-Hada and Miyako belong to Razer Athane. Hwoarang and others belong to Namco.

* * *

"I think it's fear."

Razer's cheek lifted from her hand, knuckles brushing her chin. "I wouldn't think so. You and me both know he's hard-headed, SH. Fear hardly sways him."

"What about before?" The younger male's eyes followed jade irises. "I know of the things that have happened."

Surely not. Fear was something tangible. Not only by the victim, but by others. It's often that at the worst times, fear pronounces itself, makes clear that it could wash over you like a tidal wave, pushing you as it wishes, contorting you into something you can hardly recognize. But Razer could still recognize Hwoarang. Well, she thought she could. Fear didn't always affect the outer, she knew that first hand. But was it the same with Hwoarang? It was true that she was seeing less and less of him, but that wasn't exactly her fault. Life caught in between them, he was busy, she was busy, the world was busy. She had made effort to visit, to see if he was alright and tested Jin's nerve in doing so. That in itself was a risk she was willing to take for him, even if she knew consequences were unpredictable.

But then, perhaps that was why. Hwoarang knew as well as Razer the absolute horror that Jin can display, construct and strike into hearts. People were frightened of him. Even the strongest can be affected by his extreme strength and sovereignty. All with the most calm and unreadable of faces. He was an epitome of the purest terror and uncertainty. Hwoarang didn't want her hurting, just like he has always relayed and promised her. She, admittedly, had forgotten that. "I know myself of the next tournament first-hand, but...he doesn't have to hide himself away." Her brows furrowed. "He also knows I'm able to look after myself."

A benevolent smile inked itself over the Korean's lips. "Clearly, he still thinks he should be the one to do that."

Razer paused. He still wanted to look after her? She understood that he reminisced of their days living hand-to-mouth, shielding each other, knowing in their hearts that one could not survive without the other, but she didn't realise it still affected him so. It was quite adorable, in a way. Razer needed him, he needed her, and being reminded of this elevated her pessimism by an entire stake. But if that was the case, as she had reiterated moments earlier, why did he hide away? If he missed it, why didn't he tell her? "Does he still worry about Jin?"

"Not of him, but of what he may do to you; if he has already done something – something you may not be telling him."

Seong Hada's fingers snapped thrice, head unturned from the steaming pot it was craned over. Razer hesitated, unsure of what his signal was suggesting before her eyes landed on a small jar of oregano, handing it to him. "You mean abuse?" she asked.

"I dunno. But I've heard him sleep talking. It's in Korean – I can understand – though."

"What does he say?" Razer had to admit that her stomach dropped, however, she was mostly unconscious as to why.

"He speaks Jin's name as well as yours, though it's in a hasty breath, as if he is calling to you," the male commented, voice slow as his mind recalled the memory, "He sounds frantic in many of them. I think they are more like nightmares to him."

Nightmares. She had had plenty of those to know the effects it had on a person's mind and body. It was like having an illness, to an extent. They could mean anything, a vision of a future you fear, a dream without heart or escape, an image of everything you are terrified of, moulded into a chimera of pure horror. It could be anything. But she can only be sure from first hand resources. Rising from the chair did she twist her form, noticing that she had to physically unlock her fingers from around the handle, knuckles a pasty white. "...I need to see him. I failed in a conversation before, but I know I can get through to him with persistence. He did it for me many, many times. He deserves the same."

"Keep at it, Raze. Neither me nor Baek can break his barrier."

"I can only try my best." _'But my best may not be enough.'_

* * *

What a lovely room.

It was not difficult to see Hwoarang's current life in the mess. Laundry scattered the floor, littering it and hardly allowing the carpet to breathe underneath, items were stacked in disorderly towers, empty wrappers, CD cases, a bit of everything, it seemed, lay untouched and tossed carelessly away from the only tidy part of the room: the bed. A path of clean floor led to the frame, to which the sheets were messily made up to keep them mildly shaped. Living on the bed. It was like he was thirteen all over again. For some reason, a smile fell over Razer's lips.

It was cut short once she heard a grunt fall on her ears to which her eyes snapped up, watching the Korean who was everything but pleased to see her. At least he had allowed her entry, right? But it didn't really justify his look. His brows were knitted together, sienna irises ablaze, yet his face seemed distant. Expectant, even. Was he hoping to receive something from her? To see such a face on Hwoarang – directed at her – admittedly, scared her. It also quite annoyed her. She had not committed any wrong doing of what she could remember, plus it was not her fault she had limited social allowance. Jin had constant eyes on her. If he was not there, a Tekken Force soldier was. She had had more than a few gun barrels jabbed into her back when her eyes strew too long over the front door.

She settled herself awkwardly on the edge of the bed, hands in her lap as her fingertips touched. Who was to speak first? She admittedly didn't know what to say. Where did she begin? Thinking of a plan first would have been a good idea...

"Hello."

She jumped when he spoke, a volt of fright hitting her. She had expected to have to be the one to begin the talk. "Hello. I was wondering how you are."

"I told you before how I was feeling." So empty. So stiff. So...unsettling.

"I wanted to make sure status had changed. Is it wrong for me to be curious of my friend?"

Razer took note at how Hwoarang's fists clenched. Now was not the time to be testing him with snideness. But then, what did Razer have to feel bad for? She did have a motive, though: sanity. She had reiterated so many times to him that he was her anchor, her tie to what was remaining of her damaged life. However, she had considered the terrifying thought of jumping to another ship. "I am fine. Everyone gets bad days, don't they?"

"Bad days do not go on for weeks, baegchi." Razer had to commend herself when she saw the corner of his lip twitch just that little bit.

"I've just realised something lately..." He paused, as if he were gathering his bearings. "We're growing apart - again – because of Kazama. And it's for different means. This time, it's not like you're in love, it's like he has an imprisoning grip on you. I hate it."

He wasn't wrong. It was true that Jin was adamant on keeping her at his beckon call only and yes, it was affecting her relationships with others. She feared the worst for them every single time she clocked in her daily happenings to the raven. It was something she was working on and fortunately, she had noted how Jin seemed more lenient – even though it's just a fraction – on her activities. Mostly because he knows she is terrified of overstepping the marks he has drawn – she knows she is scared.

"Well..." the Greek began, picking her cuticle as to not look him in the eyes and find herself blabbering, "You're right. We have grown apart. But I have not seen much effort coming from you to try and bring us together again."

"What? I visited you before, didn't I?"

"One time doesn't solidify a friendship again, Hwoa. I am very sorry that my side of the bargain is difficult to achieve, but I have a reason. You just said it yourself."

Something from the tense air that enveloped them seemed to tell Razer that he knew he was right. "So Kazama is holding you prisoner?"

"..." There was a long pause as she mustered her answer. "Yes. _In a way_, he is."

A loud sigh left the Korean – a mix of what seemed like relief and exasperation. "I knew it. I knew it!"

"Hwoarang, please!" She lifted her hands, shushing him. "I do not want Baek or Seong Hada to hear us. I do not want them to have to get involved in this. Jin is keeping me inside for reasons I do not know yet, but I think I am going to know soon. He has announced another tournament – have I already told you?"

"I know," he snit, nodding, "I'm going to enter."

The Greek's eyes widened. Her blood ran cold, amplified in her ears as she played it over and over. Hwoarang was entering the seventh tournament. Another risk. Another chance that she would lose him again. She felt like crying. Reel after reel after reel of memory flooded back. Running – endless running, feeling like you are going nowhere. Chilling cackles, rusted chains, Screams. Blood. A blackened sky, charred earth, obliterated remnants of Hon Maru... "...No."

A quirk of a brow. "What?"

"You are not participating. No! With Jin as unpredictable and powerful as he is, who knows what could happen! I've seen what he has done as of late, I've seen how ruthless he is, how power hungry and revenge-driven he is. There is nothing left of the man I knew inside of him. And he will kill you if he can! You are a threat to him! I am not losing you again, Hwoarang, not to the tournament, not to him, not to anything!"

"Razer..." For what felt like the first time in eons, Hwoarang's touch met her body, hands firm on her shoulders to lock their gaze. It shocked Razer exactly how ready, sure and assertive his eyes were. He had a stronger motive now than he had ever had in a previous tournament. Albeit, similar to predecessors, yet this time, the fire within him was a volcanic ablaze. It scared her, shockingly. And there was something else there..."Don't worry about this. I'm training around the clock – mentally, physically, until blood is pouring from my knuckles and heels. Jin Kazama is going to die at my hand."

Fear. It was definitely fear. Nobody would sign themselves up for such an impossible approach. Hwoarang's resolve was impressive and not to be looked down on, but this..._this_ was something that Razer could not sugarcoat. With his bond to the devil gene strengthening day by day with every success and broken sand bag, with every litre of blood shod, countries falling to their knees to him, she knew for sure... Jin Kazama was unstoppable.

Razer had to turn her head, eyes sliding shut. By now, it had become impossible to hold herself back, a tear sliding down her cheek. To say these words would hurt. To say them would to be to go against every amount of will and hope she had invested in the Korean. But...she could not hide the truth. Hwoarang deserved to know every bit of it at this time.

"You will lose."


End file.
